Those Tired Eyes
by darelyn porter
Summary: Ellie has trust issues. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that her boyfriend killed her in the flesh, not to mention in the famous Los Angeles Murder House. Ten years of waiting, regret, and loneliness pass and new owners move in. The Langdons.
1. Opening

I sat in a dusty window sill, wearing one of my old, musty and oversized beige sweaters from a countless amount of years ago. I traced the rim of my coffee mug with my finger, stained with blood. The blood, along with the sweater, was very dated. I let out a breath, if those seemed to still exist, and pulled the mug to my mouth, taking a sip of the hot and bittersweet liquid. I was tired of existing in the frozen void of nothing. The amount of times I tried committing suicide to end it all are countless. The year was 1983. And from the windowsill from my old bedroom I was watching yet another family move into my house; the house flooded of murder, hate, and dark forces. I heard the distant sound of firecrackers, slowly progressing to the point where they were in my room with me.

"Troy, you aren't very skilled in the nature of surprise," I joked dryly, still gazing out the window.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed he became visible, along with Brian, his twin brother. They didn't look too thrilled that I wasn't playing along with their game, whatever it had been. I finally faced them when they didn't speak. I raised an eyebrow at them, "What do you want?"

"There's a boy." They said collectively, smirking.

I rolled my eyes. It was fake eye roll, but I didn't want to seem too easy in front of the twins.

"Is he cute?" I asked, trying to be nonchalant. Troy gave me a look that told me he had no idea what he thought cute was to a girl.

I rolled my eyes again and quickly pulled myself off of the windowsill, setting down my coffee that had grown cold, and paced my way down the hall. I noticed Gladys standing over the staircase railing, watching the living like goldfish.

She turned her head my way and smiled, "Came for the show? Everyone seems to be chattering about the new family."

I let out a laugh, "I'm only interested in the son." I made my way next to her and peered over the side. All I could see were two blond heads. One was obviously the mother and the other the boy.

"So this place is haunted?" he spoke. His voice was young, too young.

"Tate, go pick out a room for you and I'll continue with the realtor," his mother said with a slight southern accent, while completely ignoring his comment and sending him upstairs.

When Troy stated that there was a boy, I didn't realize he meant an actual boy. Tate looked to be six years old. He wore a sweater that was similar to mine. It hugged his small body while mine almost hung off of me; the sleeves rolled up and it almost down to my knees. His face was visible to me now; I turned to him, taking every aspect of him in. He was half the size of me. His hair was bright blond and short. His eyes seemed tired and lost, even though they were only the ones of a child. His eyes glazed past me while he sighed. He turned and slugged his way down the hall toward my bedroom.

I glanced at Gladys, who gave me a look that said I should follow suit. I looked down at the floor smiling silly. I turned and made my way quietly towards the doorway. I knew he couldn't hear me, or even see me, but it was fun to pretend. I stood in the doorway and observed him. He had obviously seen my cup by the window. He picked it up and traced his fingers around where I had just been drinking it. I tilted my head and my small smile turned into a giggle. I wanted to mess with him. His head shot up towards where I was standing. He seemed to be scared, but he tried to hide his fear.

"I can see you," he said, his voice shaking.

My eyes widened, he couldn't, right?

I walked silently into the room and made my way over to the chalkboard on the opposite side of where he was. I picked up a piece of chalk and starting writing out, since I had no intention of speaking to him.

"What am I wearing," He read out my words slowly. My handwriting was messy and ugly. I was surprised he could make it out.

He stuttered a bit with his words. "You know… a shirt… and pants..."

I smiled, he was cute. Before I wrote anything else his mother strode into the room. She was pretty in an old middle aged woman way. Her hair was perfectly shaped into a beehive on the top of her head; she wore a blue and green floral dress and a bit too much makeup. I could smell the powder caked onto her skin from across the room.

"Well, so is this your room?" She said rudely.

He smiled knowingly, "Yeah."

The rest of the night I sat in the corner of the room and watched him unpack mostly clothes, toys, photographs, and books. He had a lot of sweaters and long sleeved shirts. I only saw a select amount of t-shirts. A young autistic girl walked into the room and sat on his bed. "I don't like it here."

Tate shrugged, "Get used to it."

She didn't respond.

He continued pulling shirts out of cardboard boxes and stuffing them into drawers without folding them.

The girl finally spoke again, "I don't like the ghosts, either."

He hesitated in responding, "What ghosts?"

"The twins, the nurses, all of them," She said quietly, glancing over at me, but then back at Tate. "I can see them all. There are too many here. Why are they all here?"

He didn't know how to respond, from what I could see. I was at lost for words. I thought of leaving, but I decided not to; to see what the girl would say.

"I think ghosts are cool…" He asked. I knew he was thinking about our encounter earlier. I knew I should have left the second his mother walked into the bedroom. I was too infatuated with him.

I knew this was now my time to leave. I quickly slipped out of the room. I had no idea where I would sleep from now on, probably in the attic. I couldn't shake the thought that the girl could see me. How? It made virtually no sense. I was so used to being invisible to everyone and everything. I made my way down the stairs and slipped down into the cellar. I saw Nora sitting down in Charles' old lab.

"Where is my baby?" She sobbed; her handkerchief that was stained black with dirt in her hand. I rolled my eyes and strode into the opposite room that was empty and cold. The only light source was the small upper window that was covered in dirt and dust. It was pitch black out, but the moon barely shined through. I didn't know how or if ghosts could sleep, but I tried. I tried pulling myself into the darkness. To shut off everything, just for the night. It didn't work, and I ended up laying in the room alone with my thoughts.

I couldn't stop thinking about Tate. I didn't even know his last name or anything about him, but I was drawn to him. My thoughts wandered to what he would look like when he grew older. I then thought about showing myself to him. I tried to shake these thoughts away, I felt like a total creep, thinking about a six year old boy romantically, but I couldn't resist. I thought about what he would think of me, would I be too ugly? Would he be disappointed? I liked the mystery; I liked having control over everything. I promised myself I wouldn't ever show myself to him, to keep it all interesting for both of us. I didn't want him to get bored of me. But then again, how easily could a six year old boy get bored? I then thought of kissing him, when he was older, of course. Could I even kiss him? I didn't know. I had had no other contact with a human until my death. I tend to keep away from the living. They're either always too happy with their lives or too sorrowful. I either am jealous or pitiful. There is never an in-between.

I was alone in the house. Constance was out at the supermarket buying dinner, Tate was out at school, and the girl, whose name I later learned was Addie, was at school as well. I walked around the house aimlessly. It was too boring here, I needed friends. All the other ghosts keep to themselves. Gladys was the only ghost I ever talked to. The twins wreck havoc on almost everyone in the house so I don't call their encounters anything close to friendship, just pure mockery. I made my way into my old bedroom. It had transformed completely since two weeks ago when the Langdon's moved in, the walls were still the same drab shade of blue. Their colors had faded so much over the years it had almost turned into some kind of gray color. I traced the new comforter on my old bed. It was brown. It didn't really match my iron headboard that he chose not to get rid of, but I guess he didn't care much. He had a stereo. Or I think it was a stereo. It played music like a record player. Music I had never heard of, but I liked it.

He seemed too complex for this house. He was smart. He reads a lot, from all of the books stacked around his room. He didn't have any type of book shelf or nightstand for them so they piled all around the floor, making it difficult to step around his room. He had a lot of informational books on birds and flight. I thought that was interesting. I could see why he would like birds. They were so free. They can go wherever they want, whenever they want. I wish I were a bird, maybe that's how he feels.

I opened up some of his drawers and I found the one with all of his sweaters. There were a countless amount of them. I picked one up that was green with brown stripes, or vice versa. I pulled it up to my face. It had a distinct smell to it; something that I couldn't quite place. Maybe it was Tate's smell. I always think that everyone has a certain smell to them, something that makes them unique. Whatever it was, it smelled nice.

I walked to the bathroom and examined my face. My scraggly brown hair hung down my back, alongside my bangs that were a bit overgrown and covering my high forehead. I learned to accept the circles that rounded my tired blue eyes were going to never go away. I sighed. The part that I hated seeing in the mirror the most was the scar that cut across my throat. I tried not to notice it. I pulled out a ribbon from under one of the loose bath tiles that I stored some of my belongings under. I tied my hair back solemnly.

"Why are you so interested in the boy?" Someone said.

I jumped and spun around. I saw that it was only Maria, the nurse. I looked at her for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"I think I would be interested in anyone who moved into this house" I lied.

She shook her head, "This is different."

"He seems complex. There is something about him that I can't quite place."

"I agree." She said, but paused. "I can't wait until he gets older."

There was a hint of mischief in her voice. Jealousy flushed through me. I thought silently that Tate was mine. But that was a silly thing to think, seeing as he wasn't, and probably would never be.

"Are you going to show yourself to him?" I asked quietly. I knew I had no chance against her. She was ten times more beautiful than I was. Even though I had developed a little crush on Tate, I knew I would never be with him anyway. Seeing as we were ghosts, and him only a mere child. Knowing Maria, though, she would try something on him regardless. She always did. She would wait until he grew older, around his teen years, and then make a move.

She gave me an uncertain look, "I don't know, maybe one day. I've been terribly lonely."

"Aren't you supposed to be a good Christian or something?" I asked.

She looked at me for an extended amount of time. She exited the bathroom and almost walked down the hallway. She turned back to me one last time and said, "Jesus didn't save me. He didn't save any of us."

Before I could respond, she disappeared. With that, I made my way down to the kitchen for a much needed hot cup of coffee.


	2. Bittersweet Flashbacks

**Author Note: Hello again, this is just a bit more of an informational flashback for Ellie, so you get more of an understanding of her past. Thank you for the two reviews already on this story when it has only been up for a bit longer than 24 hours. I really** **appreciate it. This chapter gets a bit gory towards the end, just a heads up. I promise it will pick up more when i get more into the storyline. Thank you for reading!**

A week after my encounter with Maria, I stood in the kitchen one early Friday morning making myself a cup of coffee. Coffee was easily a drug to me, and it was virtually the only thing I liked to put in my system. I yawned and crossed my arms as I sat myself up on the cold tiled counter top, waiting for the pot to fill. I was wearing an old shirt of mine that was worn and smelled of moth balls.

My mind was flooded with thoughts from last week. Every time I saw Maria after the bathroom chat we had, it seemed just to be a silent showdown between us. She seemed to be intrigued with Tate just as much as I was. I also wouldn't stand a chance against her if she did so chose to appear to him. Another thought that also crossed my mind was the fact that she was just doing this for fun and to mess with me. We were the only two girls in the house that would really stand a chance to seduce Tate when the time came; although that wasn't really my interest -seducing him-but I didn't want Maria to be with him either.

Maria was basically the same age as me. I think I was a few years younger, though. I moved into the Murder House with my boyfriend two years after what had happened to her and Gladys. We didn't think much of the murder at the time. I wasn't really one to worry about murders and crimes, nor did I even have time to read newspapers to get the entire story. Plus, I had already been aware of the previous murders even before Maria and Gladys. Honestly, moving into the Murder House wasn't a big deal to me at first. I was never one to believe in the supernatural. I thought ghost stories were fun to read at bonfires and on camping trips with friends, I never thought they would ever actually be true. Nor did I ever think I would be a part of a ghost story myself.

I think the only reason why we bought the house was because it was so cheap .I remember being so surprised that it was actually still for sale after what had happened. I loved the history to it. I thought it was so interesting and nail-biting. Plus, it was so big and spacious for the two of us, who could pass up the chance to a beautiful house like that? My boyfriend, Hunter, felt the same way as I did. He was adventurous like I was. He was much older, in his twenties, and I was only a junior in high school. My parents forbid us from seeing each other. He was artistic and a bit of a bad boy. He rode a motorcycle, and at the time I thought nobody could be as attractive or slick as him. And for some reason, he found me just as interesting.

We ran away together. We traveled across the country together from Colorado, where we originally had lived. He wanted to go to Los Angeles to debut his art. And I wanted to go wherever he wanted to go, because I was head over heels in love with him. At the time I thought Hunter was the one. Now I only think of him as the monster that abandoned and cursed me to this wretched house.

I traced the scar that etched pink across my neck.

After we moved in, everything seemed to be perfect. We were happy. He had a steady job part time working in a train station, while I waitressed at a local diner. We weren't very steady going in regards to the mortgage, but we were young and we made ends meet regardless. I was grateful they even let me apply, I was so young. Old enough to work at the diner, but oddly the only people who seemed to work there were about twenty or older, it didn't bother me though.

Two weeks into living in the murder house and I started to get uneasy. I started to hear things and every time I would venture into the basement I would get the chills. I remember trying to talk to Hunter about how I felt, and how I thought something in the house wasn't right, but he didn't pay much attention to what I thought. He continued to believe that ghosts were just a fantasy and that I was just being a scared, stupid, high school girl. I brushed aside some of his rude comments. But after living in the house for a month everything changed. Hunter grew cold and distant. He hated speaking to me and I started to doubt everything. I doubted dropping out of school, leaving my family, friends, and everything behind in Colorado.

I broke my thought process when the coffee maker was done brewing and it beeped loudly. Suddenly I wasn't in the mood to drink any, so I unplugged the machine and slowly walked up the stairs into the master bedroom, recalling the night of my death.

The room now was dressed to Constance's likings. It was very mature and clean to perfection. I pulled my arms around myself and sat in the window seat, having that night flash before my eyes as if I were watching it happen before me.

_A loud crash woke me up from my sleep. I sat up suddenly and paced my breathing, trying to be as quiet and alert as possible. Hunter wasn't in bed and it didn't surprise me. He was never home anymore. He stayed out as late as possible, getting home around four in the morning to crash in the guest bedroom for a few hours after getting drunk at the bar. I glanced over at the clock next to me for the time, it was around five am. I slipped out of bed quickly and pulled the curtain to view the driveway. Hunter's truck was parked; he was home._

_I let out a long and shaky breath, making my way slowly from the master bedroom into the hallway. I didn't even dare to call out to Hunter; I was terrified. I slowly pushed the door back to the guest room. Although I couldn't see anything in front of me, as soon as I opened the door I knew something was terribly wrong._

_A set of invisible hands grabbed my body and pulled me in. I was surrounded by darkness. I heard the door slam and there were multiple invisible shrieks of laughter coming from all around me. I tried to scream but nothing audible came out of my mouth. I violently struggled against the hands, but I couldn't move. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something along the lines of a shadow cross the window. It had the same build as Hunter, and I had only hoped he was going to help me._

_But I was wrong._

_I felt his breath on me, I recognized it almost immediately. I also noticed Hunter was not in the right state of mind. Hunter wasn't Hunter. He chuckled quietly, but again, it wasn't Hunter's laugh. _

_Tears escaped my eyes and flowed down my cheeks. I just wanted this to be a nightmare; a bad dream to wake up from._

_Suddenly a hot slicing pain arose on my neck. It was quick and barely audible, but it seemed to happen all in slow motion. I could feel the metal first pierce my skin and then rip across my neck in milliseconds. He did it in a quick slash. Blood filled my mouth and my shirt quickly absorbed the flowing blood that was oozing from the open slit on my neck. The taste was bitter in my mouth and almost in an instant I lost my grips with reality. Everything turned black and the last thing I saw was his brown eyes reflecting in the rising sun of the new morning._


	3. A Gunshot

**Important Note: For anyone who is following this story so far, I have changed chapter 1 to fit more of the time scale in the first season. In the 1980s Tate was a mere child, so I changed it to fit that. Meaning Tate is now a 6 year old. So I would highly recommend re-reading it. I also changed it to the year of 1983, which was a low year for the Langdon family. I do realize that it is my story and I can virtually change anything (plot line wise in regards to the actual show), but I thought it would be easier to follow and I like having it fit more to the main plot line in the TV Show, just with my own twist. It will flow nicer now, sorry for that. Thank you for reading and I would love to see some reviews! I want to know what people think of this story.**

The sound of a car door smashing shut abruptly brought me out of my flashback. I moved over slowly to the window and pulled back the thin white curtain. I peered over into the driveway and saw a well dressed man move from the front of the car towards the house. I realized that this was Tate's father, Hugo.

I had never actually seen him yet, which was silly, but he spent most of his time out of the house at work. I made my way downstairs to study him. He stood in the kitchen and his briefcase was lazily thrown on the kitchen table. He was rummaging through the refrigerator in hopes of finding something to eat.

Then suddenly, a red headed girl entered through the screen door through the kitchen. She wore a maid's uniform. Hugo raised his body and closed the fridge, eyeing her like a hawk. She seemed a little thrown off by him.

"Hello Mr. Langdon." She said very quietly. She smiled at him, but it was obviously forced.

He only stared at her and said nothing. She let out a breath and quickly tried to make her way past him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. A devilish smile arose on his face. His hand started to make his way down to her butt, but somehow she managed to slip away from his grasp and run into the study.

I stood in the kitchen, frozen. I felt so clued in. I couldn't help but feel disgusted as well, knowing that Constance's husband was trying to have sex with other women in their own house. I also felt bad for the maid. How embarrassed and violated she must feel. Hugo made no other attempt to chase after her. I guess he didn't need to, as she worked for him. Which was another thing that boggled my mind, why didn't she just quit if he was doing this to her?

I slowly walked towards the study, where the maid had run off to. It was on the opposite side of the first floor, and the door was shut. Although I was a ghost, I didn't like moving through walls. Passing through objects made me feel woozy and sick, but in this case I thought I should.

She sat on the green couch and her hands were buried in her face as she was quietly sobbing. I sat in the chair opposite hers and made myself visible.

"Why don't you just leave?" I said.

She jumped up and looked at me with wide eyes. "Who-who are you?"

I leaned over, with my elbows on my knees and I rested my fists on my cheeks. I thought how I should place my words.

"This house is haunted. Don't you know?"

She didn't respond. She seemed at a loss for words.

I continued on with what I was saying, with or without a response. "I saw what Mr. Langdon tried to do. It isn't in my nature to pry on other people's business, but why don't you just leave? I don't know anything about you, but if it were me I'd get out of here as quick as I could."

She paused for a moment. "It happened last week for the first time; except it went further than I expected. Mrs. Langdon wasn't home and I was scared for my life. He threatened to kill me."

I flinched at her last sentence, but she continued. "Constance can't find out about this. I can't be the cause for ruining a family. I tried to quit, but Hugo offered to double my pay, and I really need the money. I'm stuck here with no way out. I don't know what to do. Oh god, I sound like a cheap whore."

I didn't know what to say to try and help her, so I moved next to her on the couch and pulled her into a hug. Her cries became untamed and loud. She nestled her head into my shoulder and her tears started to soak into my shirt, but I didn't mind. Hugging a living being was weird, but also quite nice. She was so warm, and I could feel her heartbeat against my chest. I didn't pass through her, like I thought I would. It was like I was real too.

"What's your name?" She asked; the tears still audible in her voice.

"Ellie, Ellie Greene." I said. Saying my name out seemed surreal.

"I'm Moira O'Hara." She said as she pulled out of our embrace. She smiled a bit, wiping away her tears and her running makeup.

"I should get back to work." She sighed, standing up.

I stood up as well, "I'll see you around, I guess. Or I guess I hope not." She gave me a sullen look, but did not respond. I walked across the room and closed the door behind me as I exited. I made myself unknown again, and I started walking up the stairs when the door opened again. Moira popped her head out and looked around for me. When she didn't see me, she whispered to herself, "Spooky."

Later in the evening, when Moira had returned home and Tate and Addie were home from school, I sat in Tate's room, watching him do his homework. Although, homework for a six year old only consisted of tracing the alphabet and coloring in pictures, it was still fun to watch him scribble in pictures of flowers with assorted colored crayons.

When he was done he stuffed his papers back into his bag and changed into his pajamas. I smiled, they had little dinosaurs on them and he looked too cute for words. I sat on the desk chair as he climbed into my old bed.

What was interesting was that unlike other children, he wasn't afraid of the ghosts here. Not that any other children had lived here in the past, but I only assumed that children were scared of the supernatural.

His mother glided past his open bedroom door, making an obnoxious racket with her high heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

"Mom," he called out to her.

She had already disappeared from view, but she returned into the doorway, "What do you want, Tate?"

Her rude comment made Tate's voice become barely audible, as he was intimidated by her words. "Can you read me a story?"

It seemed that he was capable of reading a story on his own, but I understood the comfort of having a parent read to you right before bed.

She rolled her eyes, "Momma's a bit busy at the moment. Can I read you a story tomorrow?"

Her tone was stale and forced. She infuriated me to the last drop.

Tate nodded and she walked over to his bedside and kissed him on the forehead. "Goodnight, my perfect child."

Her sentence confused me. I thought about how Addie had Down syndrome; maybe that was meant by how he was her 'perfect child'. But shouldn't their mother love all of them the same?

She made her way back to the doorway and flicked the lights off, closing the door, leaving only the light that shone through the bottom of the doorway.

It was Monday. I sat in the living room with my feet propped up watching television. Constance or Hugo had left it on earlier, so I thought it would be no harm done in taking a seat. Whatever was playing was truly horrific. It was a soap opera of some sorts, and it was so dragged out and terrible I was literally thinking of laughing out loud at the program.

Tate and Addie were home from school. There was an in-service day where all the teachers had a meeting, so they were rewarded with the day off. Constance was out running errands, whatever they may be. Hugo was locked up in the study while Moira was upstairs making the beds from the previous night's sleep.

I kept on my toes about Moira and Hugo. I was very scared for her, we had grown close and I didn't want to see her get hurt.

Suddenly, I heard the study door open. I didn't think much of it at first, but to be sure I stood up from my spot on the couch and slowly made my way over to the main entrance room of the house, that connects all of the first floor rooms together. I saw Hugo hobbling over, drunk. He had a glass container of alcohol in his hand and he was giddily laughing like a child.

My heart started to race as he placed the alcohol on a table and pulled himself up the stairs by the railing. Slowly but surely I followed him.

He walked upstairs into the master bedroom where Moira was making the bed.

"Oh don't stop," He said; a smile in his tone as she paused and noticed him in the doorway.

"I'll be done in here in a minute." She said, a certain tone in her voice that hinted at him to leave.

She tried to ignore him, but he made his way closer to her and wrapped his arms around her and started for her butt, just like last time. And just like last time she escaped his grip.

"Stop- please. You're drunk." She cried.

"You liked it the first time." He whined, moving towards her again.

I became confused. Did they actually have an affair?

"That was a mistake. Please, I really need this job." She said.

His eyes became furious, for whatever reason, and he forcefully grabbed her small body and hurled her onto the bed. She cried out loudly, but his hand was over her mouth in a second. I didn't know what to do. I was still in shock about the fact that she did indeed have sex with him willingly a first time.

With Hugo's open hand he started pulling down his own pants.

Without another moment to lose, a chill came over me and I couldn't breathe for a moment. Red flashed through me, and with another moment I realized it was only Constance's dress. She had a gun in her hand, and she shot it at the mirror. The loud crash of glass echoed through the entire room. Hugo immediately shot up and quickly pulled up his pants while Moira scurried over to the outside corner of the bed.

Constance stood there with tears starting to form in her eyes. Her gaze turned to Moira, and suddenly a bullet went through her eye. She released a final cry as she hit the ground. Blood was spattered over the gold and white wallpaper, along with a growing puddle of blood on the wood floor/.

"I've loved you since I was sixteen," Constance finally said to Hugo through her teeth; obviously holding back her tears.

"Please, this didn't mean anything." He begged.

Constance raised the gun, "You've broken my heart for the last time."

Without another word, a bullet went through his chest. And then another one, and then another. He fell onto the bed after the first shot, and the blood started to ooze out of the wounds and absorb into his button down shirt.

In the heat of the moment, I had forgotten that Tate had been in the house the entire time. As everything fell silent, I could hear a distant cry.

I ran out of the room and down the hallway into my old bedroom. There in the darkness I could barely make out Tate's silhouette curled up into a ball in the very corner of the room.

I made a very bad decision. I made myself visible. I knew I was going against my promise to myself, but I knew he needed someone. He needed comfort.

"Tate," I whispered.

His head shot up, and in between his tears he spoke to me, "Who are you?"

I slowly made my way closer to him. I sat next to him and I smiled. I brought my hand up to his face and I wiped away a single tear that was halfway down his cheek.

"I'm a friend," I said softly.

"Are you a ghost?" He asked.

I smiled again, and I pulled him onto my lap. I wrapped my arms around his small warm body, and I laid my cheek on his head.

"Are you afraid of ghosts?" I said, responding to his question with yet another question.

He paused for a moment, thinking over his answer, "I don't think so. You seem nice."

I smiled, "Everything is going to be alright, Tate."

He lifted his head up suddenly to look at me, tears welling up again in his eyes. "What happened? Why were their gunshots and people screaming?"

I couldn't tell him the truth: that his mother had murdered his own father just down the hall.

"Your parents were just watching a scary movie with the volume all the way up, and your mother screamed. You don't need to cry." I hushed him.

He looked at me for a long time, examining my face for any hint of a lie. Maybe he believed me, maybe he didn't. Whatever he thought he didn't question my statement.

Although he struggled to stay awake with me, his eyes began to flutter shut. I smiled to myself and stood up slowly with him still in my arms. I tucked him into bed and stared at him for a moment. I thought it best not to linger in his room. I looked back one final time before closing the door. I had just spoken to Tate Langdon for the first time.

**A/N: Just to be clear, this won't be some weird pedophile romance story between young Tate and Ellie. Also I'm not going to be updating every day like this; I've just been on a roll with this story for the past two days. I won't be updating for a bit so please review or i won't continue updating. I need to know if people like this story or not!**


	4. Bad News

The next morning I slugged downstairs, thinking over everything that had happened the previous night. Down in the kitchen, Tate, Addie and Constance were at the breakfast table.

"It was probably the ghost." Tate said.

"Don't be silly Tate, there are no ghosts here." Constance said rudely. "I probably just forgot that I made a pot of coffee the other morning."

There was a stale tone to her voice. She knew she hadn't. I studied her; she seemed a bit off balance today. I mean I think I would be too if I had just murdered my maid and husband; although I hadn't seen Moira or Hugo in the house yet, since once you die here your soul is trapped forever. I wanted desperately to talk to Moira. And I wanted to murder Hugo a second time.

"Where's Daddy?" Tate asked innocently.

Constance seemed to be in a daze as he asked this, but as soon as she heard his voice her head shot up, "What? Oh, your father left this morning. He… isn't coming back."

I was surprised by her bluntness about the entire situation.

Tears started to well in Tate's eyes. "Did you kill him?"  
The table fell silent. Addie's eyes flashed back and forth between Tate and their Mother, waiting for a response.

She let out a very forced laugh. "Don't be silly Tate. Why would you think that?" She paused and her tone changed completely. It was now quiet and serious, "Your father- Your father doesn't love me anymore. So he left this morning, and I don't believe he is ever coming back."

Tate stood up from the table. Tears falling down his face like raindrops. "I hate you." He screamed and ran upstairs.

Constance looked dumbstruck, as did Addie.

I never really paid attention the relationship between Tate and his father. I never knew they were so close. Or maybe they weren't, maybe Tate just wanted a father figure in his life. Him being so little, losing his father so suddenly was probably a sort or trauma to him. I wonder if Hugo would ever appear to him again.

I left the kitchen to follow Tate upstairs. When I approached his door, I could hear him sobbing. I reached for the handle, unsure of what next move would be. I was about to open the door when a hand grabbed my shoulder.

I turned and saw Moira. I thrust my arms around her, "I am so sorry." I whispered.

"It's okay," She laughed.

I pulled away and shook my head, "No. You'll be stuck here forever. I've only been here for 10 years, and I hate it."  
"Well, at least I'll be stuck here with you." She shrugged, smiling a bit.

The murder occurred late September. The rest of the year dragged on with nothing interesting to claim to it. Tate grew even more distant with his mother, only speaking to her when absolutely necessary. It was frightening how little he spoke to her, especially at only six years old. Christmas was soon here, but it never really felt like Christmas without snow.

I sat in the attic. One day in October I had ventured up here out of boredom, and I found what I believed to be Constance's third child chained to a bed. He was terribly disfigured, but kind and shy. Since he couldn't speak, nor did I think he could understand me, I didn't even know his name.

"Beau," a voice said.

I turned and saw Moira climbing up the ladder. "What did you say?" I asked.

"His name is Beauregard." She said, sitting next to me and gently grabbing the ball from in front of me and rolling it in his direction.

I nodded. "Why does Constance keep him up here?"

She shrugged, "Maybe because he is different."

"I got this for you for Christmas." She said while handing me a box wrapped in newspaper.

"How," I asked her, taking the box.

"On Halloween, I went out in hopes of seeing my family. I saw it in the window on my way back and I thought of you."

"You really didn't have to. I feel bad now, I didn't get you anything." I responded.

She shook her head, "Just open it."

And so I did. I ripped the paper off quickly, and in my hands was a leather bound notebook.

Before I could thank her, she spoke up. "You told me that you once wanted to be a writer. You know, before your tragic end."

I nodded my head, "Thank you, Moira."

I pulled her into an embrace. I was glad I finally found a friend in this house.

After we had chatted and talked, I climbed downstairs into Tate's room. He was sitting in there with his new yellow truck playing.

I smiled and glanced at the chalkboard, slowly making my way over to it. I picked up a broken piece and started scrawling out words. As soon as the chalk made the first screech against the board Tate lifted his head and smiled.

I wrote Merry Christmas. I mean, I guess it could come off as creepy, but that wasn't my intention.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Ghost." He said while staring into my direction.

There was a long pause. I stood there and observed him. He stood up and walked towards the chalkboard. Tate then extended his arms and walked around. From the looks of it he was trying to feel me. He got closer and closer until the point where he slashed his arm right through my waist. He jumped back and I immediately felt sick.

I have heard that a ghost emits cool pockets. So basically, his arm went right through me, which in his case was a cool pocket in the room, signaling that's where I was.

"Why don't you show yourself?" He said, staring through me. He looked around in the general area, obviously not sure of where to place his eyes.

I turned back to the chalkboard. I erased my previous words and started writing out new ones. I wrote, 'Because it's a mystery. Don't you like mystery?"

It took him a moment to read it all out, but he finally responded. "I mean I guess, but I like you. Are you the ghost from that one night?"

I nodded, but then I realized he couldn't see me, so I wrote out a 'yes' on the chalkboard.

He nodded. "You were nice."

And with that, we didn't continue speaking for the rest of the day.

More months went by slowly with no cosmic significance. Everything went normal and boring as they did even before the Langdons moved in.

One night at dinner while I was sitting in the dining room, listening into their casual dinner chat, Constance made a brutal announcement. "I have to sell the house."

Tears started immediately formed in Tate and Addie's eyes.

"I like it here, my friends are here!" Addie screeched.

"I don't want to leave either!" Tate yelled.

"Nor do I, children, but I don't have money to keep paying the monthly mortgage. We have to downsize. These are tough times we are living in. I'm sorry." She shrugged.

I couldn't move. They were leaving? It wouldn't process in my mind. Tate was leaving. I may never even see him again. I ran out of the room and down into the basement.

"Moira?" I called out.

She appeared to me in an instant, "What's wrong?"  
"They're leaving." I said so quietly, I myself barely even heard it.

She grabbed my waist and pulled me into a hug. My body was numb and I didn't have the will to lift my limp arms and wrap them around her. I stood there.

"I was so dumb to think that they would stay… Nobody ever stays."

"Unless you die," She said bitterly.

"Unless you die," I repeated, nodding my head.

**A/N: Happy Fourth of July! Yeah, i realize this isn't very interesting, alongside being short. **

**What will Ellie do now that Tate is moving out of the Murder House?**

**Reviews are always welcome!**


	5. A Glimmer of Hope

**A/N: Hello world, I know it's taken me a bit to update this story. Honestly i kind of forgot about it until last week. I know this is super short but i just wanted to post really badly. I was also hoping to get more reviews in my absence... but oh well.**

I sat in the attic very disturbed and heartbroken. The house was now empty again. The Langdons had taken all of the furniture left in the house, even if it had belonged to a previous owner who had left it here beforehand. Like my bed.

Not that it was necessarily my bed anymore; I was upset that I was left with an empty bedroom again. And although I was happy that Tate got out of the house before it made him crazy like the others, I knew I was in for another long ten, fifteen, thirty, five hundred years alone. Maybe I wouldn't last five hundred years, who knows; maybe someone will come along and want to tear down the house. Maybe that would finally set all of us free. I could only hope for that. I did enjoy Moira's company, but still in this house I felt very lonely and desperate for some kind of activity.

A month went by and a couple moved in. I couldn't help but feel sorry for them. They were young, Larry and Lorraine Harvey. They were a good family, very reserved and had good morals. They didn't go out much, only when they had to. They played board games and watched reality TV shows at night. Lorraine cooked nice homemade meals.

What seemed like centuries went by. I think it had been five years. They were the longest family I had encountered to live in this house and not go crazy. They were a bit abnormal in general, but I was still very surprised about how the house had taken no affect on them.

They had their first daughter a year ago in the house. Nora became very obsessed but we all kind of helped ward her away from the baby. She was almost seen by Lorraine at one point, but Charles managed to sneak her away unseen.

I was sitting in what was now the nursery for the baby when I heard a large crash down in the basement. I froze up. I think it was habit to be afraid, but I really shouldn't have. In this house I was part of the reason to be afraid.

I made my way down the stairs and into the basement. It was dark and I couldn't see very much, I made sure to be unseen to anything that was down there. My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and I made out four figures in the darkness. They were foreign to me and I didn't recognize them.

"Are you sure this is a good idea man?" One whispered.

"Yeah, this place is cool. It's totally haunted. You'll see." Another voice responded.

Luckily for them the Harvey's were out grocery shopping, but they would eventually come home and notice the broken down basement door.

"Come on, I'll show you." The second voice said.

They all passed through me and I felt like vomiting. I turned and watched them all run upstairs.

I followed them, very curious as to what they would encounter.

I was very sure that the ghosts wouldn't play along with whatever game the one boy was playing at, trying to impress his friends into thinking there were ghosts here. Which there were, of course, but I don't think anyone in the house would give him the satisfaction.

I followed the four boys upstairs into my old bedroom. There were two blond boys and two brunettes.

"See look, there's a coffee cup." The one pointed.

My eyes widened and heart skipped a beat.

"So? Who cares? That doesn't prove that there's a ghost here. They could have just left it here." One boy said while rolling his eyes.

"This is stupid; I'd rather just go to the movies." Another one said.

"No, listen to me. When I lived here there was a ghost who always drank coffee in this room. She talked to me. And she held me once. She exists." The blond boy spoke.

I didn't believe that Tate was actually here again. I thought it was a beautiful dream that I was having.

"If she exists then why doesn't she show herself?" One brunette boy said very sassily.

Tate was silent.

The boys groaned and rolled their eyes, "Let's get out of here."

They left Tate alone in the bedroom. He looked very frustrated. He quickly grabbed the coffee cup from the floor and threw it across the wall, letting out a scream as he did so.

I could tell he wanted to impress these boys very much with his knowledge of the house. I was actually surprised they didn't believe him. I figured after all of the murders in this house it would be somewhat legendary in this city.

"I hate everyone," he said under his breath.

I fought the urge to show myself very badly. He was 11. Could I possibly wait a couple more years? Would I even see him again?  
Although today's encounter with him was a flicker of hope in my dull world in this prison cell, it was also a miracle. And miracle's aren't quite as common in the Los Angeles Murder House.

**Some reviews may unlock the next chapter?**  
**And mostly boost my motivation to write.**


	6. Eyes Met

I was sitting in the kitchen reading the newspaper. A couple more years had gone by since Tate had come back into the Murder House. I learned to make fun out of the resources I had in the house. The Harvey's had a lot of trinkets and I used my imagination to make it all more enjoyable for myself.

The notebook Moira had given me about nine or ten years ago was completely filled up by this point. I filled it with some of my feelings from those days I had written in it, doodles, short stories, and even some drawings of people in the house; including Tate as a young boy. One day I took a couple of colored pencils from the Harvey's daughter's collection and colored the drawings in. Although I sort of regretted it afterward, since I didn't think it looked as good in color, but I was too bothered to re-draw all of my sketches that I had worked so hard on.

All of a sudden, Mr. Harvey and his wife came bursting through the door, heavily kissing. It startled me so quickly I almost shrieked, but I held myself back. I was also very confused. Mr. and Mrs. Harvey weren't necessarily the type to get hot and heavy randomly. They usually planned it out for certain evenings, which to me took away some of the romance, but that's just my opinion. I then noticed it wasn't Mrs. Harvey Larry had his arms around and kissing. It was a blonde woman. Affairs seemed to be a very reoccurring element in this household.

I circled them to get a better look, trying not to get in the way, but to also see who the mystery woman was. Before I could catch a glance, they quickly started to move into the study. I don't know why, but something possessed me to follow them.

I peeked in, they were quickly stripping each other, and I won't go into excruciating detail because no one wants to hear about middle aged people having sex. But, just for a slight second I caught a glimpse of the woman's face. I almost laughed out loud I was so in shock.

Constance Langdon.

A couple months went by and the late night and mid afternoon affairs between Constance and Larry increased. They seemed to be very in love. I could only feel sorry for Lorraine and the children. What would they think when they eventually found out about this?

I was casually roaming around the house when I could overhear Constance and Larry in the Master bedroom.

"Constance, I love you. I want you to move in here with me." He said.

I could hear the smile in her voice. I did feel happy for her that she found love again, but she was also a hypocrite. She murdered her husband for just what she was doing right now, "Larry that would be the world to me, but what about Lorraine?"

"I'm going to tell her tonight. I'm ending it with her. I want to be with you, not Lorraine. It's only fair to let her free."

She let out a giddy laugh and then I heard them continue to kiss.

It wasn't until later that night until I realized that the forces of the house had indeed taken over the minds of the Harvey family. After Larry had told Lorraine that he wanted her to leave the house so he could be with Constance, she went into a hysterical rage. She kept trying to fight Larry, and after she had grown tired of her punching him, she ran out to the garage with tears falling down her face like a waterfall. Larry was standing in the kitchen with his hands buried in his face, sighing.

Lorraine ran up the stairs with a can of gasoline in her hand. She opened up one of the large hallway closets they used for linens and started pouring the liquid all over the sheets and towels. Then she drenched the floor and the door and the whole outside area.

"Lorraine?" Larry said calling from downstairs.

Just by looking at the wife you could tell there was evil inside of her. She ran to the kid's room and woke them. She grabbed their arms and dragged them into the hallway. They followed sleepily; unaware of what was going on.

"Lorraine?" Larry screamed. When he noticed what she was doing, he started running up the stairs, attempting to stop her in the act.

She pulled herself and the children inside the closet and locked the door in a swift motion. In an instant, there was fire. It seemed like an explosion of flames and smoke. I stood there in shock. Under the crackling of the large flames I could faintly hear the children's screams. Larry attempted the bang on the door and open it, but the metal was hot to the touch and burned his hand. Soon the smoke and fire became too much for him and he backed away.

Seeing that getting them out of the closet himself wasn't an option, he ran downstairs and called the fire department. They were here in a matter of minutes. There hadn't been a terrible amount of damage to the house, but Lorraine and the children had gone. They were now chained to the house forever.

Larry had the damage fixed in a matter of weeks, but after that night he never quite smiled as bright or looked the same. Those moments when he would just stare off into space, he looked purely like he wanted to cry. He knew it was partially his fault. Although I mostly blame the house for what happened, I do believe Larry had it coming for the way he was behaving behind Lorraine's back with Constance.

He had all of Lorraine's personal belongings stored in the basement. He threw out most of the children's belongings. I feel like out of the events that had occurred, the fate of his children is what hit him the most in the heart. He kept a few of their most prized possessions and kept them locked away in a chest in the master bedroom.

Later in the evening one night, I remember it was a Wednesday, I heard a girl's voice shrieking with laughter in the hallways of the house. I emerged from my bedroom to see a girl with long brunette hair and a dress on sitting in the hallway with Troy and Bryan. She turned and noticed me and smiled. It was Addie. I smiled back at her. For some reason it didn't occur to me that since Constance was moving back in, so would Tate.

"Addie, what are you doing in the hallway like that?" A boy's voice asked. It was deep and very crisp. It made the hairs on my arms stick up.

There he was. He was very tall now and his hair was a bit long. It fell a bit past his ears and it was dark and curly. He wore a sweater, even though it was the middle of the spring. He was just as a I had imagined him older, probably even better.

"Playing with my friends, Tate; I've missed them." Addie responded.

"Oh right, your ghost friends." He mocked, rolling his eyes. He turned toward my direction and made toward my room.

I observed his features. His eyes were still piercing, but they also seemed very tired and lost. There were dark circles under them from an obvious lack of sleep. His lips were parted, but they were etched into a frown on his face. I couldn't read his emotions clearly on his face.

"It's good to be back," He said under his breath. He placed his hands in his pockets and stood there for a moment, trapped in his own mind.

His thoughts seemed to be broken when movers entered the room with many boxes of his personal items. One man carried in my old bed frame and I smiled. I hadn't seen it in so long. I was glad he kept it.

"You can just set them on the floor, thanks." Tate said.

Then men left him alone again. They had carried in furniture and Tate pushed them all into their own separate corners, arranging them to his likings. His room had looked exactly as it was ten years prior. I'm not entire sure how he managed to get every aspect of the room the same. He was unpacking a box of books and placing them on a shelf when he abruptly got up and left the room.

I figured he was just going to the bathroom. I shrugged the thought off and I moved towards the box. I sat down next to it and pulled the top book out and examined it. I smiled, it was the same informational book he had on birds. Except now it was worn. The pages were a bit discolored and flipping through it you could tell the pages he had folded corners of to remember for future reading.

I kept flipping through the book, looking at all the pictures and reading the names. I didn't know how many different types of birds there were until now. So many different colors and shapes and sizes, it was amazing. There were some truly weird looking birds out there.

In the corner of my eye I noticed a figure standing in the doorway. I looked up and saw Tate. His eyes were wide and the corners of his lips were turned upright into a small smile. He was looking directly into my eyes.

**A/N: Thought I'd leave it on a cliffhanger for you all. I'm sweet, I know. I think I'm getting into the swing of things again with updating, now that we're getting into the good part of the story. Tate is finally around the same age as Ellie. Hehe.**

**Reviews are always welcome! **


	7. An Interesting Conversation

**A/N: Ugh, something is up with the reviews on this story... Some are just popping up for me now and it says they were posted days ago and they aren't being counted on the story. Like if you count all the reviews I have around 15 when it only says 11… It's weird. I'm not sure what's going on with it. Is it happening to anyone else? D:**

`If I were alive I knew my heart would be racing. He stood there in the doorway staring at me. A smile appeared on his lips, "It's you."

My heart fluttered like a bird as he spoke to me. Honestly I didn't think he would remember me from all that time ago; I mean he was only six. How was I supposed to know that he would remember me after ten years? I figured by the time he grew up he would have forgotten all about me. Secretly inside me though I was glad he didn't forget.

He made his way next to me and he sat down. My eyes never left him. I could feel his breath on me. It smelled like cigarettes. Honestly if it had been anyone else I would have found it repulsive, but with Tate it was different. He eyed me up and down, and he lifted his arm to touch me. He placed his hand on my shoulder and I gasped and disappeared. It was too much.

"No, please don't go!" He called out, even though I was still right next to him. I quickly got up and ran out of the room. I leaned against one of the walls in the hallway and saw Maria walk by me.

"Smooth one, Greene." She said, smirking. There was obvious venom in her voice. She knew she would win him over. I wasn't so sure. Although Maria was beautiful and every boy's dream, I felt some sort of connection with him. Something I knew Maria would never have with Tate. Although if I was too afraid of ever even being around Tate and talking to him, I knew she would win. And although this wasn't some game to me, I couldn't even think about Tate and Maria being together. I didn't want to.

Somehow I mustered up the courage to walk back into the room. I didn't know what I was doing at first, but I just went with my instincts. Tate was sitting on the bed reading. He looked up and saw me again. I felt the same rush through my body as he eyed me down.

"Hi," I said. After I said it I felt so stupid. I mentally punched myself. I'm a ghost and all I can muster out is a weak 'Hi'?

He laughed, "Hi. Are you going to disappear on me again?"

I shook my head, biting down on my lip. I bit down so hard I could taste a bit of my blood. Why was I so nervous?

I moved over to his bed and sat down next to him. He smiled at me.

"Why aren't you afraid?" I whispered.

He shrugged, "I'm not scared of anything."

I shook my head, "Everyone is scared of something."

He thought for a moment. "Being alone, I guess if I had to pick something."

We sat there in silence for a bit, but it was nice. I stared at his book that he was reading while he stared at me. I didn't mind it though, even if it did intimidate me.

"You're a ghost." He said.

I laughed. I surprised myself; I don't think I had full out laughed ever since before I died. "Of course I am."

"Why are you here?" he asked. He was still eyeing me like a hawk. His brown eyes stared deeply into my own. He was intrigued by me, I could tell. But then again, who wouldn't be intrigued by a ghost in their bedroom?  
"If you die…in this house…you don't …necessarily… get to leave." I breathed out.

` "How long have you been dead?"

` I thought for a moment. "Twenty years, give or take."

"That's insane. I bet it gets boring here." He said.

I nodded, "Most of the time, yeah. In the beginning I was on my own. The worst part is watching people die and then having to see them suffer just like I do. You shouldn't really be here. I was happy when you first moved out. You escaped."

"My mom is obsessed with this house. She even played the guy who she's dating so she could get back in here. She's psycho. I've hated her since I was little. When I turn 18 and graduate I'm long gone." He laughed.

Although his words about leaving stung my heart, it was for the best. He didn't belong here with me. He didn't deserve to rot in this house along with the other souls. He deserved a nice and long, happy life.

"I wish I could leave. I've imagined my life so many different ways if I hadn't died. I would be around 37 right now. I've always pictured myself with kids and stuff in a big house with a husband and a nice job as a writer for a local newspaper or something like that." I laughed, but a few tears fell from my face.

"Sorry, I'm just being stupid." I said, trying to hide my tears by wiping them away.

He cautiously put a hand on my shoulder, "You're not being stupid."  
I looked up at him with tears still stinging in my eyes. "It's my own fault for being here. I should have gotten away."

"How exactly…did you die?" He asked hesitantly.

I shook my head, "Not something I want to get into the first day we've talked. And besides, it's late. I should let you sleep."

"This is technically the second day we've talked; if the encounter when I was six counts." He smiled.

I laughed, "Goodnight, Tate."

"Goodnight," He paused. He was obviously about to address me, but he didn't know my name.

"Ellie," I said.

He smiled, "Goodnight, Ellie."


	8. A Visitor

The next day while Tate and Addie were at school, I laid in Tate's bed and wrote in a notebook I had snatched from one of Larry's daughters. Although I felt bad about their deaths, I wasn't going to let a perfectly good notebook go to waste.

I twirled my pen around in circles on the paper, doodling and scribbling on the pages. I wasn't one to mourn over death, but today all I could think about was my family. Since I was stuck here I had no idea if they knew I was dead or not. Ever since the day I left with Hunter I fell of the grid. My parents disowned me, all of that. I got a new cell phone after I had left, they never contacted me. I don't even think anyone knew I died, which was the worst part. I remember sitting and watching Hunter clean up the mess in the guest bedroom; this bedroom. I can still barely smell the bleach. It reeked for at least a month of bleach and countless other cleaning products that he used.

All I knew about my body was that he took it off of the property. I figured he had dumped it somewhere. Not somewhere too secret, but somewhere that no one would go looking and report a body. I could just imagine him dumping my limp body out in the woods somewhere and having wolves, fox and other creatures scavenging off my flesh, leaving only my hollow bones. At this point, I knew I was in the ground somewhere; so much for a proper burial.

I heard the door open and I looked up and saw Tate walking in with a school bag.

"Hey," He smiled.

Even though it had been less than 24 hours, he seemed comfortable with me.

"Hi," I said. I was still in a bit of a sad mood from my thoughts prior to him entering the room. "How was school?"

He shrugged, "Shit. I hate school."

"I would do anything to be in school. Well, I mean you get to see your friend's right?"

"I would gladly switch places with you if it meant not going to school. And yeah, it would be fun to hang out with friends if I had some."

I rolled my eyes, "I don't believe that."

"Nobody wants to be friends with the weird kid." He said.

"Well I'm your friend." I replied.

He smiled at me, "I'm glad. You seem like a cool ghost."

Before I could say anything else, the doorbell rang. Tate and I looked at each other and both started downstairs. I became unknown, but I knew he knew I was still there with him.

Constance beat Tate and me to the door, but we stood close behind.

When she opened it a girl with shoulder length blond hair stood in front of her.

"Yes, dear, can I help you?" Constance said in her nicest tone.

"This is probably going to sound silly, but, uh, did a girl named Ellie Greene live here?" the girl managed out, very nervously.

I stood stiff. I saw Tate tense up as well.

Constance turned and looked at Tate for some help, but he didn't make eye contact with her.

Constance was about to speak, but then Tate beat her to it, "Yeah. She did a long time ago."

The girl paused for a moment, "Do you know where she is now?"

_ Right in front of you,_ I thought.

Tate clearly hesitated with his words, "She, uh… died, here in this house twenty years ago, give or take."

I didn't want to, but I smiled at him quoting my exact words.

She seemed very shocked by his words, "You're sure?"

Tate nodded. "Who are you?"

She looked down at her feet, blushing. "I'm her niece, Danielle. I've always wanted to meet her. My mom never wants to talk about her, but I sometimes go through old photo albums and pictures of her. My mom said she ran away when she was 17, not that she died. My grandparents don't talk about her either. Nobody ever seems to talk about her. It was this old janitor at the high school that led me here. He said that Ellie and her boyfriend used to always come in and talk about running away to Los Angeles. I'm not sure how he knew which house they moved into, but he led me here. Thank you for your time."

Tears started welling in my eyes. I ran to the basement. I needed the darkness. I wanted it to consume me. I wanted to rot away into nothing. They hated me. My parents still hated me. This wasn't what I wanted. I didn't want them to still hate me after twenty years. They don't even care to act like I was even born. At least Cassie, my sister, kept our old photographs. Why would she not tell her daughter and my niece about me? I let out a wail of tears. I screamed and I cried. I was letting out two decades worth of tears and emotions for my family out in one sitting. I didn't care what Tate thought or what Constance or any of the living beings in this house thought of me at this point.

I have never wanted to die more than I did right now.

I sat in the basement for a week. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I smelled the cigarette smoke and knew who it was.

"Ellie?" He called out into the darkness.

"What do you want?" I managed out in a whisper.

I became known and he turned and looked at me. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. You freaked everyone out last week."

"I'm fine," I said icily.

He sighed, "Well you know where I am when you want to talk."

I waited a few moments for him to disappear back upstairs. I wanted nothing more than to embrace him and hold him. I think I would even embrace Maria at this point I was so desperate for some kind of contact. I went with my instincts. I didn't care if he thought I was weak or a tortured soul or any of that. I ran upstairs and caught him walking back into his bedroom. He turned as he noticed me running to him. I jumped up and wrapped my legs around his waist and wrapped my arms around his neck. My head found its way into the curve of his neck and I just started crying again. He tightly wrapped his arms around me.

He slowly walked into his bedroom and used his foot to close the door behind him. We fell onto the bed together, but we only held each other. It was the first time in a long time that I didn't feel alone.


	9. What Have You Done?

A week had gone by. Tate was out at the movies with Addie and Constance was in her bedroom watching something on the television. Tate and I grew close. I still hadn't told him about my past, but he didn't mind. He didn't want to intrude on my personal life so he didn't want to push it. He told me all about himself. How his mother had eventually told him that his father left him because Constance was having an affair with another man. I cringed when he told me this, but I didn't tell him the truth. It was for the best that he didn't know.

It was around eleven o'clock at night. I was sitting in the living room watching some television myself. By this point I wasn't sneaky about it. Constance didn't care and she was very aware of all of the ghosts in the house. And Tate and I were close friends at this point so she respected me for that. I saw Addie walk into the room and wave at me.

"Where's Tate?" I asked.

"What? He came home a while ago. Some kids at the movie theater were giving him a hard time so he left." She said.

"What do you mean they were giving him a hard time?"  
"Well, Tate doesn't have many friends at school … and these kids were really popular. Most of them think he's weird so they started making fun of him and he just left."

Why would he come home and not tell me?

I ran upstairs and bolted into his bedroom, but it was completely empty. I stood there in the piercing silence. Then I heard it. I slowly made my way out of the room and towards the bathroom. I turned at the knob, but it was locked.

I phased through the wall and my eyes widened in shock. He was kneeling on the ground with a razor blade in his hands, slowly cutting at his wrist. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was shaking. I became known and he jumped at the sight of me. I quickly reached down for the razor, but right before I could grab it he made one final vertical slash on his wrist. Blood poured out of him.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" I screamed. Tears fell from my eyes and I grabbed the razor and flushed it down the toilet. I was sobbing. This couldn't be happening. He fell from his knees and onto his back. I shook him but he only stared up at me with a twisted smile on his face. There was blood all over the floor and soon on my knees and clothes.

I grabbed a towel to stop the bleeding. He couldn't die in this house. He couldn't die at all. I tied it tight around his arm and I bolted out of the room. Constance was walking down the hall, "What is going on? I'm trying to sleep."

"Your son just tried to commit suicide." I yelled, running down the stairs for the phone. I quickly dialed 911.

"911 what is your emergency?"

"Yes, hi, my friend Tate, he- he's in the upstairs bathroom. He tried to commit suicide- please- he's bleeding and I need help. He can't die." I said quickly. I was losing it. Everything was happening so fast.

"Calm down, help is on the way. Do you want me to stay on" I cut her off when I hit end on the call. The ambulances seemed to be taking forever. I ran back upstairs to check on Tate. I kneeled next to him and hovered over his body. He titled his head a little and his eyes met with mine.

Before I could say anything, fire fighters burst into the room. They quickly set down a gurney and picked up Tate. They placed him on it gently. He started crying even harder. I knew he didn't want to be saved, but I had no choice. He couldn't die here in this house. It pained me to see him like this. They rolled him out of the room and down the stairs. I quickly followed down to the front gate where I watched him being hauled into the ambulance and off down the street.

I desperately wanted to follow. I wanted to go to the hospital with him and tell him everything was going to be alright. I was chained to this house. I couldn't take another step. I watched the red and blue lights disappear around a corner and the sound fade off into the distance of the night.

Knowing Tate's fate was eating away at my sanity. For weeks he hadn't been home. I never left his room. For comfort I wrapped myself in his sheets and waited. I listened to his music, I wore some of his shirts, and nothing seemed to take the edge off. If he had died he would have passed on. He would have been free of the chains that connected him to this house.

I heard the door squeak open and I shot up in the bed. I relaxed when I noticed it was Constance.

"He's been released soon. They just want to make sure he's stable. He's fine." She breathed. She sat down on the bed.

"Why did he do it?" I asked.

"Tate has always self harmed. He saw a therapist before we moved back in. I figured it would pass. It mostly has to do with the bullying at school. People find him different. They also tease him because of Addie. She's different, as you know, and some people don't quite accept that. He's very close with his sister. They judge him for it and don't understand. He doesn't know how to deal with it so he lets it out through hurting himself." She explained.

"He almost died." I whispered.

She nodded, but didn't respond.

"He cares about you. I'm glad he has you in his life." She said. I was surprised. Honestly I didn't think Constance had the ability to give a compliment without some sort of sarcastic remark afterward.

I smiled as she placed a hand on my shoulder and gave a weak smile as well before leaving the room.

The next morning I was making a pot of coffee for myself and Moira. Although I didn't know it was possible for ghosts, I had a headache. I sighed and leaned against the counter as I heard the pot fill. When it was done I turned to the cabinet and grabbed a cup. As I was filling it with the hot liquid I heard the door screech open. I flipped around and saw Tate.

I was at a loss for words. He looked tired and miserable. His eyes had dark circles around his eyes. I noticed the gauze wrapped around his wrists. He looked straight into my eyes, and I did the same to him.

We stood there in silence for what seemed like hours.

"Why?" I whispered.

He sighed and moved over closer to me.

"I thought I could deal with it. I thought I could deal with the bullying and the teasing. It's been eating away at me forever; ever since I can remember I've been teased; whether it be for how I dress or act, my looks, my sister, my crazy mom, or even how my dad left us; everything. I'm teased and bullied for every little thing I do. The other night, I just lost it. I was overwhelmed. These popular kids just started harassing Addie and I. I thought I had nothing left for me. I doubted everything about myself. I've always cut, I know that's not cool, but it's how I've always dealt with things. And when you walked in suddenly, I thought of how it could all go away. I could be dead- like you. You're my only friend Ellie. I want to be with you. I can't think of leaving you. I know we've only been friends for a month, but I've known you since I was six, and I feel like I could trust you with anything. You're my best friend." He breathed out shakily.

I tried to process everything. I shook my head. "Tate, you're my best friend too, but you can't stay here. It's not safe. Do you remember what I told you? About how I was happy that you escaped ten years ago when you moved out? I still mean it. Although I enjoy your company, and everything, this isn't somewhere that you can stay. It's full of evil. It's still not safe, you could die at any"-

He cut me off, "Good! Did you not hear me, Ellie? I want to die. I don't belong in that outside world."  
I shook my head, tears started to form in my eyes. "Maybe now, but in ten years? In ten, twenty, thirty years you're going to regret it. You're going to be trapped here, forever. That may seem nice now, but when you're trapped here for eternity you're going to wish you lived out your life. Tate, you have so much ahead of you. You have your whole life ahead of you. You're going to get married and have kids and go to college. You're going to have a life. In here you'll only rot away. Every day will drag on and on. You'll grow bored and angry. You don't want this."

"I'll have you. It'll be different." He said.

"Don't ever try to kill yourself again." I said. With that, I became unknown. I was tired.


	10. Fights

Tate had infuriated me that morning. He didn't get it. As much as I wanted him here and I know as much as he wanted to be here, he couldn't. He would regret it. I know he would regret it and then eventually resent me or something of that nature. I wasn't willing to take that risk. I couldn't turn this around and be selfish. I couldn't let Tate die just so I wouldn't be alone in this house. He didn't understand what he was giving up; and so willingly. If I had his choice I would pick life. Any life is better than an eternal one wrapped in chains.

"Ellie, why have you been ignoring me?" A voice called from the entrance to the attic.

I thought about becoming unknown to him, just so I could save myself another fight, but I didn't.

"Because of what you said the other day." I huffed, rolling the ball to Beau.

"Ellie you just don't get it," he sighed.

This was the last straw. That comment immediately made me snap. I stood up and faced him, "WHAT DON'T I GET?" I yelled.

I realized how easily angered and scary I could get. I scared myself, actually. Tate jumped back at my sudden change in mood. He was at a loss for words. Nobody in the house had ever seen me so mad and angry; especially not Tate.

"What _you_ don't get Tate is that you're throwing your life away. Whatever life it may be, it's a fucking life. I'm not letting you just throw that away willingly. If I had the chance to breathe again I would. Seeing you alive and wanting to be like me is disgusting. Why would you want this? Do you want to be stuck in this house for eternity like me? Throwing a ball around to Beau and Thaddeus? Walking and roaming the halls aimlessly every day? Eating and drinking food, but not fully tasting it? Do you _really_ want this? Do you _really_ want to die when you could go to college, be successful, get married and have a good and long life; A long, _normal _life?"

He didn't speak. In this moment we both knew I was right, but I felt like he was still going to be stubborn about it. I felt like he still was going to take the easy way out with his problems. He sighed and sat next to me, gently taking the red ball from in front of my feet.

"Then I'll spend as much time with you as I can for now." He smiled.

I was going to say something along the lines of him having to go out and be social, but I wasn't going to push it when he had agreed to not let himself die in the house. I smiled back, although it was faked.

A week later I was sitting up in his room around the time he should be getting home from school. A nice, fancy car pulled up to the house. I peered out the window as I saw a tall and very skinny, well dressed woman step out of the car and make her way to the front door. Constance was out at the hair dresser while Larry was at work. I heard the knock on the door and I decided to answer it. Why not?

I pulled the door open and she immediately seemed familiar, although her face was foreign to me.

"Ellie?" She breathed.

I knew that voice. "Cassie?"

She nodded quickly and pulled her arms around me in an embrace. I hesitated to, but I did as well. I could hear her start to cry.

After we were done hugging I led her into the kitchen for a cup of tea.

"Danielle told me everything. I never thought you were dead, I'm so sorry. This is too weird though. How are you still…here?" She said while stirring her drink.

"This house…has a hold on me. It has a hold on anyone who dies here. I'm basically stuck here, forever." I responded.

She nodded.

"How come you never told her about me? Why did she have to come here for answers?" I added.

She hesitated before responding, "Well, after you left mom and dad didn't know how to handle the situation. You know they were always bad at dealing with conflict. And they deal with it by pretending it never happened. So to them, you don't exist anymore. I promised mom and dad I would do the same. They wanted to throw out all of your old things, but I didn't want to go that far, so I have them all in my house. I guess if you want them you can have them. Danielle, being nosy as she is, went through all of it. When I refused to tell her what had happened she went searching for answers herself."

"She's beautiful. She looks a lot like you, from when you were younger." I smiled.

She smiled too, "Yeah, I know. I wish you could have seen her grow up."

I laughed quietly, "Yeah…"

"How did it happen? Not to be pushy, but, I see the scar on your neck." She said. I saw her shift in her seat uncomfortably. Her deep blue eyes pierced into me for answers.

"He did it. He murdered me. I think some of the ghosts in this house influenced it, they made him crazy. But he killed me one night and he left. I don't know where he is or what he is doing but he killed me and left." I paused, "Don't tell me I told you so because I don't need to hear it. I know I was stupid and I probably had it coming."

She shook her head as tears started to form in her eyes. "No, honey, I always hoped the best for you and Hunter. I always wanted you to be happy because that is what you chose of your life. I never wished for you to be miserable or to die."

I hugged her. I didn't say anything after that. I hugged her so tightly, I didn't want to ever let go.

When we eventually did pull apart she wiped away some of the tears that had escaped down her cheeks, "Well I should go. If you want me to drop off your old things I will. And I'll visit again, too, okay?"

I nodded, "You don't have to visit often. Whenever you can I guess, I'll always be here. And I would love to see some of my old things, yes. Thank you, Cass."

She hugged me again and then left. Just as she pulled out another car pulled in the driveway. I figured it was Tate. I was right, but another person emerged from the car with him. A brunette girl in a cheerleader uniform followed quickly behind Tate with her school bag. I followed them up to Tate's bedroom. The both sat on the floor and pulled out binders and notebooks from their bags.

"You know, I could just do the project myself, Chloe. You don't have to help." Tate said.

"No, I want to help, okay?" She breathed, obviously annoyed by him. I figured she was one of the popular kids that made fun of Tate. He rolled his eyes at her response. For the rest of the night they worked on their project together for History. The girl named Chloe eventually warmed up to Tate and they joked and talked.

"You know, this house is haunted." Tate teased.

She laughed, "Well you'll protect me, right?"

He shrugged. She let out a fake gasp and playfully slapped his chest. Before she could pull her hand away, Tate grabbed it. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. The whole room became quiet and I could only hear them breathing. Tate leaned in and their lips connected. My heart shattered, beaten, and was ripped into tiny little pieces all at once. My whole body became hot with jealousy for this pretty, perfect cheerleader. Their bodies were right up against each other while their hands explored each other's bodies.

I exited the room and slammed the door. I listened to hear them react, but there was nothing, they continued on. My worst though immediately led me to think that they would have sex. I didn't want him to have sex with her. She didn't deserve him, especially when she could easily be one of the popular kids that makes fun of him on a day to day basis and school.

I stormed up to the attic and pulled on the chord to turn on the light. Beau sat chained to his bed and got excited instantly when he saw me, "Play?"

I nodded and forced a smile, "Of course."

He rolled the ball to me and I rolled it back. This went on for a while, I lost track of time. I was pulled out of the daze when I heard a car engine start. I moved to the dusty window and cleaned it off a bit with my hand to get a clearer view. Chloe was leaving. I then heard footsteps up the attic ladder, "Ellie? Are you there?"

He saw me. He had this big and beaming smile on his face. I had never seen him smile so bright before in all the time that I've known him.

"Yeah," I breathed.

"I had the most amazing night. I kissed the girl I like and it was amazing, but we didn't go all the way because I was way too nervous because she's popular and stuff."

"Is she one of the kids that makes fun of you?" I asked, ignoring his comments about their make-out session.

He hesitated in responding, "She's in that general group of friends, but she never personally has said anything mean to me. Ah, she's just the most gorgeous girl at school and she kissed me. I'm so fucking happy."

"Girls like that kiss everyone," I said very rudely under my breath.

He obviously heard me, "What's that supposed to mean?"  
"It means don't get your hopes up." I said.

"You're my friend, you should be happy for me, not being a bitch." He hissed.

"It's called reality Tate. She's popular. I know her type." I said back with just as much venom in my voice.

Without another word he stormed back downstairs and closed the folding stairs to the attic so I was left alone up here. I sighed, I knew I should have been more supportive for him, since he really likes this girl, but I let my jealousy get in the way.

I continued rolling the red ball back to Beau for the rest of the night, letting myself calm down.

**A/N: If it wasn't clear, Chloe is the cheerleader that Tate later kills in the Westfield High Massacre. I always wanted to know Tate's connection to these kids, since he told Ben that he killed people that he liked. Yeah, just my opinion on that whole thing! I wish the dead breakfast club got a more solid story line.**


	11. Right but Wrong

Over a month had gone by and Chloe had become a regular in the house. It was now February of 1994.

Tate never understood why I kept my distance when she was around. He wanted me to show myself to her and for us to be friends, but there was no way in hell that would be happening in her lifetime. I didn't need her to see how ugly I was, I didn't need her pity party. Tate didn't understand that and when I tried to tell him that he rolled his eyes and said she was 'different'. Nor did I want to be her friend when I was completely and utterly jealous of her; for both the fact that she was with Tate and that she was alive. Tate truly wanted to go all the way with her, and I didn't encourage this decision. I told him he shouldn't do it, but he also informed me about how close he was to her and that how he has been obsessed with her since the first moment he laid eyes on her, and so on. I held back my smirks when he said this, because the same could be said for me.

I didn't blame him though. She was very beautiful and she didn't seem all bad. Although I didn't like to admit it, she didn't seem like the typical high school cheerleader. She seemed very genuine to Tate and seemed to like him very much. I shouldn't be so bitter about this whole thing either, since he was young and alive. He deserved to have a girlfriend and be in love.

In the weeks that had gone by, Cassie had also dropped off a box of my old belongings. Tate and I went through them. Toys from my childhood, photographs, my favorite novels, clothes, things like that. One shirt that I found I had been wearing for two weeks since she dropped off the box. It had been my favorite shirt during my teen years and I was happy to have it again. It was an oversized grey and red baseball shirt with blue and red stripes, it was soft and comfy and I hadn't worn it since I was 17. The shirt smelled like home, like Colorado. I remember in my hurry to pack for California, I wasn't able to find it, so I shrugged it off and quickly forgot about it. I regret my actions, but I didn't have time to look for it at the time, I was too busy fawning over Hunter and our mad fantasy.

Valentine's Day was approaching and Tate was nervous to get something for Chloe. They weren't exactly together in the sense of dating. They seemed to just hang out at the house and sometimes hers. I have never recalled a time when they went on an actual date, or from Tate's stories.

"So, are you going to get her a gift?" I asked, sitting on the edge of his bed as he was pacing back and forth.

"Should I? I mean, we aren't serious, but I really like her." He said. He was obviously very troubled over this.

I shrugged, "Why don't you just ask her out on a date?"

"I'm too scared to." He whined.

I rolled my eyes. "Just call her and ask her. The worst she can say is no."

He groaned and moved over to the phone in his room. He dialed her number and the room became silent enough so I could hear the ringing on the other end. She picked up and I heard her voice vaguely.

"Hey, Chloe, I uh- I know we aren't serious or anything, but I was wondering… on Valentine's Day-"

She cut him off, and I wasn't sure if it was a good or bad sign.

"Okay, no, yeah, it's totally cool. I get it. Ok, bye." He said and hung up the phone.

I waited for him to speak; he looked up at me and gave a fake smile and small laugh, "She has plans on Valentine's Day, with her boyfriend, Kyle."

Before I could speak he cut me off, "I should have known. I mean, I'm too weird for her anyway. I should have known when she doesn't even look at me in school and always has to talk to me when no one else is around. I should have known it was too good for it to be true. Why would she like me anyway? I'm just some loser."

I stood up from the bed, "She's dumb for choosing some jock over you, Tate. You're amazing and funny and smart and everything a girl could ask for. You aren't some loser. You're Tate Langdon, the nicest and most amazing person I've ever met."

He smiled a bit when I said this, but he still seemed very upset over the situation. He looked at his feet while I continued to stare at him. All of a sudden, I started to hear him whimper and cry. I sighed and frowned. I pulled his body to me in an embrace and he immediately grabbed me for support.

"Please don't cry, you're going to make me cry," I said softly. Tears were forming in my eyes. I hugged him tighter. I didn't want him to be hurt like this. He deserved to be happy. He didn't deserve this. We sat on the bed and his head was nuzzled into my neck. His tears made my neck and the shoulder of my shirt wet, but I didn't mind.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'll be your Valentine's date." I laughed, trying to brighten the mood. I wiped some of my tears away with my hand.

He stopped hugging me and pulled away, staring at me. His tears were still plastered to his face and his eyes were slightly red. We stared at each other for a moment and then everything slowed down.

He leaned into me and closed his eyes. His lips and mine suddenly connected for a moment. They were soft and honestly everything I had dreamed about kissing. I pulled away and stared at him in awe. The thought that I was some rebound clouded my mind for only a second, but I was too caught up in the moment and my body just seemed to take over the better side of me. I knew it was wrong, but I placed my hand gently on his neck and pulled him to me. His hands made their way to my waist and I nudged my body closer to his. I could hear his breathing and our noses brushed each other as our lips were centimeters away from each other. I looked into his eyes for a brief moment and then I moved in again.

I could kiss Tate for hours. Everything in my body was telling me this was right, except for my brain. I knew I couldn't do this. I couldn't kiss him. I couldn't lead him on like this when we both knew the ending to this. He would move out in 2 years and go to college and I would be here. I would always be here.

I pulled away and looked down, not making eye contact with him, although my hands were still wrapped around his neck.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asked. "Sorry, I don't really know what I'm doing. I don't do this often."

"Liar," I laughed, "Did you totally erase Chloe from your memory?"

He chuckled, "Yeah, but she took the lead on it most of the time…"

I looked up at him in all seriousness and sighed. I stroked his cheek with my thumb and whispered, "This is wrong."

He nodded, "I know."

He didn't say anything after that. We sat in silence and eventually shifted so he was cradling me in his arms.

"We can't… be in a relationship." I breathed.

"I know." He sighed.

"Say something other than I know, please." I laughed.

"You're the only light I've ever known, Ellie. I know that we can't be together, but I want to _so _bad. It would be completely wrong, and totally go against the laws of nature, but I just feel something with you. I feel something…different." He said.

"I meant something that wouldn't make me want to kiss you," I whined. "I just, I can't have you doing anything drastic while you live here. You can't kill yourself. As crazy as that might sound, you already tried that. I can't have you emotionally attached to me or anything of the nature when you leave. You can't stay here forever. I want you to have a normal life."

"I figured that out the first one hundred times you've told me." He laughed. "But I understand. We can't be together, but can we at least be best friends still?"

I looked up at him and nodded. I felt sick to my stomach. I didn't want to do this. All I wanted to do was sit in bed with him all day and just kiss him. I had to fight the urge though. It wasn't natural. Ghosts and humans aren't supposed to be friends let alone kiss.

I knew it would be hard, but it was for the best, right?

**A/N: Yay! I've been waiting to write this chapter forever. I'm excited to move further into the plot line that I have figured out for this. I'm going to be taking more time to write these chapters though, so give it maybe a week or so at the latest. (:**


	12. Go Away

**A/N: I may or may not be going on a short hiatus after this. I want to focus on some of my original writing. Enjoy! I wrote it extra long for you guys today.**

I started noticing his behavior change in March. It always happens sooner or later. I tried my best to soothe him and draw him away from the darkness that was slowly starting to envelop him. It was this house; it had some sort of grip on him now. He wouldn't admit to any sort of change. He said he was fine, although it was obviously lies. He seemed bitterer and more irritable.

"Tate, just tell me what's been going on." I said.

"I'm busy, homework." He said. He didn't even look up from his papers as he spoke to me.

"It's the house, isn't it?"

He slammed his pencil down, clearly irritated. "Just leave me alone."

I was just so confused. Just two weeks ago he was happy, now he secluded himself in his room and never talked to me or anyone for that matter. I caught him cutting just the other day. It thoroughly scared me and I quickly had to clean the house of all razor blades. Larry wouldn't be able to have a nice clean shaven face, but whatever it took to keep Tate alive. I couldn't have him attempting suicide, especially under the influence of the house.

I didn't respond to him. I became unknown and went to the basement. I noticed Moira sitting in Charles' old lab.

"I need help," I sighed.

She turned to look at me, breaking away from her previous thoughts, "What do you need?"

"Tate. The house has taken hold of him. What should I do?"

She laughed, "You've been here longer than I have. You know more about all of this than me, how should I know?"

It wasn't the response I was looking for. I was hoping for some sort of advice.

"Let him die." A voice chimed. As soon as I heard it my skin prickled and I turned and saw Maria.

"I can't."

She rolled her eyes, "Right, because you're in _love_ with him. Look, he obviously wants to die. He _wants _to be here, so just let him, El. You know you want him to; deep down."

I glared at her. She smiled more with my growing hatred for her and her words. "He can't die in here, especially under the influence of the house. He'll regret it. He doesn't know what he's in for."

"That's what your brain says. I saw you two kissing in February. I remember you pining over him when he was little; obsessing over him and drawing pictures of him. Don't try to pretend like you don't have feelings for him when you clearly do. It's pathetic." She spat at me.

My blood was boiling. I wasn't thinking straight by this point. The madness got to me. I grabbed a knife off of Charles' work table and ran at her with it. I screamed with fury and pushed her down, sitting on her and stabbing her repeatedly. All she did was laugh. When I realized what I was doing my hands were shaking. I dropped the knife to the ground and turned to Moira, who look horrified.

I stood up. I knew that we couldn't feel pain if we were hurt, but I still felt sick to my stomach for what I had just done. Everything was racing in my head; I just kind of lost it. Tears started welling in my eyes and I ran out of the room. I didn't make it far past the doorway before I collided with another body.

His warm hands softly gripped my arms, "Ellie…"

I looked up at Tate. The tears were still in my eyes, I tried to wipe them away so he wouldn't see them.

"Is all of that true? Are you in love with me?" He said. He searched my eyes for answer.

Tears were escaping my eyes again and I pulled away from him backing away. This couldn't be happening. Had he heard our entire conversation? No. This wasn't happening to me. Moira ran out and I looked at her and nodded. She whispered the two words that I longed to hear; the ones that would end all of the tears and the pain, even if only for a little while.

"Go away."

And in an instant Tate and Moira were gone along with the basement. Everything pulled away from me in a single moment. I stood in the empty darkness. The only thing I could hear was my breathing. As everything became less and less insane, I became more relaxed.

I lost track of how many days I was in the nothing, but I eventually appeared back into the house. I immediately became nervous. My thoughts were slowly brought back to reality. Tate was now aware of my feelings for him; something that I never wanted. Maybe he was too freaked out by it and didn't want anything to do with me.

"Ellie," I heard someone yell from across the house. I quickly became unknown as I recognized the voice. Tate was dragging along in the house, looking upset and repeatedly screaming my name.

"Please, Ellie. I need to see you. I- I love you too." He said.

My eyes widened. I wrapped my arms around myself for support and bit my tongue. I held myself back from speaking to him. I knew I couldn't.

"Tate, dinner," Constance yelled. He sighed and moved into the dining room.

I followed him into the dining room. He sat down across from Addie. The table was filled with an assortment of foods. Constance walked in with a big ham. "Ladies and Gentlemen the ham is served," she smiled, very obviously proud of herself.

Addie smiled and clapped as Larry spoke, "Ah, it looks lovely my dear."

As she set it down into the table in the middle of all of them she looked up at the family, "Now who wants to say grace?"

Tate was forcing a smile, "Oh mother, May I?" Constance gave him a look. She didn't really want to hear whatever he had to say. Before she could refuse, Larry chimed in, "Well of course son. I was hoping you would choose to become part of this family."

Tate still had the fake smile plastered onto his face. He almost looked like he was about to cry. He joined hands with Larry and Constance, them with Addie, and he began to speak. "Dear God, thank you for the salty pig meat we are about to eat along with the other indigestible swill." Constance rolled her eyes and she looked utterly displeased, but he kept going. "And thank you for our new charade of a family. My father ran away when I was only six, if I had known any better I would have joined him." Constance slapped his hand, but he still continued. "And also because she's been trying to get back into this house ever since she lost it, Lord, a _big_ thank you for blinding the asshole that's doing my mother. So that he can't see what everybody knows – She doesn't really love him."

Tate glanced over at Larry, who looked extremely uncomfortable. Constance was lighting a cigarette and Addie looked almost as pleased as Tate. "Amen." He smiled at her when she said this.

I shook my head. I couldn't believe this, Tate wasn't this immature.

"Ha, now Tate, I know that you've been having a hard time making the adjustment with all the changes. Moving back in here after the- the tragedy that my own family"-

"They burned themselves alive after you were cheating on your wife with Constance." He cut him off. He shot these words at him like venom. Larry looked around and then down at the floor, scratching his head.

"That- that was nobody's fault. Passion drove her to it. One day you'll understand. There are sacrifices you need to make in the name of love."

Tate looked like he could murder him that moment. I glanced at Constance, who made no attempt to back Larry up or even make eye contact with him. She knew Tate was right.

"On a lighter note, I reserved tickets for everybody for Saturday at our community theater for the opening night of Brigadoon!"

Tate was staring at him like he couldn't believe anything he was saying. Constance smiled, "Well I for one will be there with bells on."

"Thank you darling for being so supportive and encouraging," he said this so monotone I almost laughed. It seemed so rehearsed.

"Yay, I love the theater!" Addie exclaimed.

Tate slammed his fist down on the table, breaking his plate. "NO ADDIE. YOU'RE A SMART GIRL. YOU KNOW HE KILLED OUR BROTHER."

Tears were welling in his eyes and Constance quickly cut him off. Larry killed Beau? No, he couldn't have. How long had I been gone?

"Stop it! Beau died in his slumber of natural causes. You know he had a respiratory ailment. Your brother is in a better place. He suffered with every breath that he took."

"He only suffered because of you," Tate shot back at her.

She laughed, "You know Tate? Unlike your siblings, you were graced with so many gifts. How is it that you can't bring yourself to use them? Just a smile or a kind word will open the gates to heaven."

Tate smiled and wiped a tear from his face, "No matter how much you want it. I will _**never**_ be your perfect son."

With that, Tate excused himself from the table. I thought about following up to his room, but I chose not to. I thought it was for the best if I just left him alone from now on. Maybe if he thought I was gone forever he would move on.

It was early in the morning, around eight or so, when Constance ran into the living room and turned on the news.

"They are calling it the Westfield High School Massacre. The killer has fled the scene, and it has been confirmed it is the same man who set fire to Laurence Harvey not even an hour ago. Also there have been 12 confirmed dead and forty wounded." They showed shots of the school surrounded by police tape.

"What has been confirmed about the killer?" A woman asked; she was another news reporter seated to his right.

"Well, he has been seen wearing a dark and long black trench coat and carrying a countless amount of firearm, we're not sure on the specifics except for a shotgun. Hold on- Ok, I have the name of the shooter. Apparently he's a student at the school. Tate Langdon."

My heart stopped. No. No, he couldn't have. Constance started weeping. I felt completely numb. I forced myself up the stairs. There he was sitting on the bed. He was shaking and staring at the floor. I made myself visible, but he didn't flinch or even look up.

Suddenly I heard the door bust open and people running up the stairs. I tried to move forward to Tate, to reach out to him, but a pair of strong arms pulled me into the corner and pulled a plastic bag over my head. I tried to scream and get free, but the person holding me was too strong and the bag muted any sound that escaped my lips.

The S.W.A.T. team entered his room and I could hear Constance screamed for him outside, I tried to scream to him as well, it still didn't do anything.

Tate slowly stood up from the bed with his arms up. I vaguely could make the scene out from the bag, I tried clawing it off my face, but it did no use.

He pulled his hand to his forehead and pretended to shoot himself. And then it happened. He quickly tried to move to his pillow and pull out a gun. They shot him. I screamed at the top of my lungs. I cried. It all happened in slow motion; he fell onto his bed and then slid onto the bed leaving a horrifying trail of blood that made me want to vomit. All of my nightmares were coming true. I fell to the floor, too numb to continue standing while crying against the plastic bag.

One of the S.W.A.T. members moved to Tate, I noticed blood pouring out of his mouth.

"Why did you do it?" The guy asked, shaking Tate. He didn't respond though, all he did was let out a sick smile. The swat team moved out of the room and probably went downstairs to bring someone in to move his body. Whoever had been holding onto me had released their grip. I quickly pulled the bag off of my head and turned to see Maria. She looked utterly pleased with herself.

I couldn't believe she would do this, but that was the least of my problems right now. I slowly turned and saw Tate's body on the hardwood floor. My body collapsed next to him as tears fell from my face. I shakily pulled my hand to my mouth, muting out my wails. I stared into his glossy eyes and shook his limp body, although I wasn't sure what it was going to accomplish.

"He's_ dead_. Get over it." Maria said.

"This is your fault," I said in between my tears that were choking my voice, making it barely audible.

She rolled her eyes, "It's his own fault."

She strolled out of the bedroom, her business was clearly done.

I was numb. I didn't know what else to do, so I laid down in the pool of blood that had formed and snuggled up next to him. I didn't really care that I was soaking myself in blood- his blood; I just needed to be close to him. I traced my finger along one of the countless amounts of bullet holes that had ripped through his swear and into his chest.

I closed my eyes and tried to mute this out. I tried to calm myself down.

"C'mon Ellie, don't do this." I heard a voice sigh.

I looked up at Moira in the doorway. When I made no attempt to release myself off of Tate's corpse she rolled her eyes and moved to me. She grabbed my torso and tried to pull me off.

"Ellie, they're moving his body in a minute. You need to get off."

I bit down on my lip and slowly got up. Moira pulled me into a tight embrace and I saw a man with a gurney and body bag walk into the room. Him and another man lifted up Tate and zipped him up into the bag.

When the S.W.A.T. team and everyone had cleared out of the house, everything was completely silent. It was a deadly type of silence. When Addie had come home she was in tears, along with Constance. Larry didn't shed a tear; he only soothed Constance and held her. They spent the rest of the night in their bedroom. Although for a while she was calling for his ghost. But he never appeared to her. He didn't appear to anyone. I was conflicted about my feelings. When I had come to my senses I didn't know how I would react to him being here again, but exactly like me; a ghost.

I had been sitting up in the attic for the rest of the day with Beau. It saddened me that he was stuck here too. He didn't deserve this. None of us did. When it had grown late, I snuck back downstairs and my clothes were now still crusted with blood, along with my hands. I hadn't noticed it earlier. I started up the bath and stripped down to my underwear. As I was about to fully undress and slip into the tub, a cold hand stopped me. My eyes widened and I turned. It was him.


	13. Lay with Me

I stood there completely exposed to Tate. I covered my mouth with my hand to not show that my jaw had dropped at the sight of him; the sight of the boy that had died in front of me, shot a thousand times in the chest. For someone who had gone through all of that only a mere six hours ago he looked completely normal; like he hadn't even been brushed by a bullet. He smiled at me, but didn't say anything. A tear escaped my eye and I ran into his arms for a source of comfort. I had been completely lost since the moment that Maria had released me from her grip. He was cold, and as my head rested upon his chest I felt no heartbeat, all I heard was silence; that was how I knew that he was truly dead.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered against him, choking at the tears rising in my voice. He no longer had his scent of cigarettes. He smelt like nothing. He didn't have a scent to claim to like everyone else, like the living. He loosened his grip on me and pulled away.

He shook his head, "Don't be sorry."

The silence between us wasn't awkward, but it was painful. Knowing that he now was forced here for eternity was eating away at me. We stood there quietly until I realized that I had been stripped down to my underwear this entire time. I wasn't completely naked, but even so, I still felt uncomfortable and vulnerable in front of Tate. Only one man had ever seen me like this and he had murdered me in the flesh. I pushed the thoughts of Hunter away. I quickly turned to reach for a towel to cover myself, but Tate stopped me in my attempt. He softly gripped my reaching arm.

I tried to search his face for an explanation. He inched closer to me, playing with my bra strap. I let out a short breath, "Tate…"

He looked up into my eyes. My stomach fluttered and did a flip. His deep brown eyes stared into mine with a puppy dog effect. In a moment his lips were on mine. I cursed to myself in my head. I had almost forgotten how sweet he tasted. His lips were soft; I could kiss him for years and years. I melted into him. His hands had moved down to my waist, pulling my body to his. This moment didn't feel right. I wasn't ready in any sort. As much as I wanted to pull away, I kept kissing him and my hands found their way into his mess of blonde hair. When his hands moved to the clasp of my bra, I panicked. I tried to keep going with it and stay cool, but I lost it when he was about to undo it. I pulled away from him. and wrapped my arms around myself for support.

"Am I going too fast? I'm sorry." He said instantly.

I shook my head. He moved back over to me and I placed a gentle hand on his face, "Tonight isn't the night."

I could tell he was disappointed, but he still smiled a bit, "That's fine."

I turned behind me and saw the bathtub filled with water and bubbles. I wanted desperately to just soak in it and relax. I wanted the water to just wash away everything that had happened, every painful memory that clogged my mind. I noticed Tate beside me peeling off his sweater and then working on the belt to his pants.

"What are you doing?" I breathed.

"Do you not want to take a bath?" He asked, obviously confused.

I was at a loss for words. "Tate, I-"

He stopped me and pulled me by the hips to him. "Ellie Greene. Whether you like it or not, we will be spending the rest of our not lives, but I don't know what else to explain it with, our undead lives, our souls, presence here, whatever you want to call it. In other words, you're stuck with me for eternity. Whether you like it or not you aren't getting rid of me; hate to break it to you. I love you. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone in my entire life. I think I've known it ever since you appeared to me that first night. That sounds stupid and you may not believe me when I say that, hell, I'm scared to even believe it, but I know it's true. Something about that night with you changed things for me. Your touch and your gentle grip, I wanted to feel that forever, I still do. I want to be intimate with you, so bad, but I'll wait if you're not ready or uncomfortable. I'll wait forever. I just want to be with you. Without you, nothing would be worth it. I'm not sad about being dead, because I know I'll always have you here with me. I know I'll never be alone, and I hope you feel that way about me as well."

I bit down on my lip and grinned. I tried to fight it, but I could feel the walls that protected me slowly being torn down one by one. I just felt at home when I was with Tate. I felt like I didn't need to worry or be afraid. I didn't feel alone both like I have these past twenty years, and that was a damn good feeling,

I pecked his lips softly. "I love you, Tate Langdon."

The words that fell out of my mouth were so true, they petrified me. I had been holding them in ever since the day I set eyes on him ten years ago. Saying those five words was like lifting the biggest weight off of my shoulders. He knew that I loved him, but to admit them openly to his face was scary. Everything was out on the table. I let out a shaky breath and looked up at him.

"I love you more," he cooed under his breath.

I smiled and traced the scars I just noticed then on his chest from the bullets. He shivered at my touch. Everyone that died here carried scars, internal and external. Moira had her glossy eye from when she had been shot; Nora had the exiting bullet wound on the back of her head, my slit throat, and now Tate's bullet wounds. I figured Maria had stab marks on her stomach, but I have never personally seen them.

Tate moved close to me and brought his hands up to the clasp of my bra again. I gave him a look, but he only gave me reassuring eyes. This time I let him slip it off of me. My bra fell from my body and I felt a bit chilled, to be honest. I felt my face flush pink. I snuck a look at Tate's face. He eyed my chest for only a moment and then his hands moved to his pants and then his boxers. I couldn't help but stare at him. When I realized I had been looking for too long I looked up into his eyes and he was smirking at me. I stuck my tongue out playfully at him in response. When I figured it was my turn now, I let out a shaky breath, but I proceeded. When we were both completely out in the open with each other, he moved to me slowly.

I felt like throwing up, but in the good sense. I was expecting for him to kiss me, but he only hoisted me up into a bridal carry. I wrapped my arms around his neck from instinct and support. He stepped into the tub and we slowly laid down together. The water was warm and it felt like I had been craving. My one hand rested gently on his chest as my head found its way into the curve of his neck. I sighed in pure bliss and closed my eyes.

"So, is this how it's going to be from now on?" I heard him say softly.

I nodded against him, "Just you and me, for always."

He paused before responding, "You've never told me how it happened, you know."

I knew exactly what he was talking about. I was dreading the day that I would have to tell him about my death. To me, how I died was probably something that I feared the most. Everything that had happened that night caught me off guard. I just never expected the man I had given my whole life to would betray me like he did.

I didn't respond for a long while. We sat there as I tried to gather my thoughts and figure out a proper way to tell him.

I exhaled a long breath, "Twenty years ago, I was in love. I gave everything to this guy. We traveled through the country to Los Angeles. He figured he would make his big break in LA and I just wanted to be wherever he was. So I dropped my life and we moved out here. I was seventeen. We moved to this house and barely made ends meet. It had only been a few months of us living together. Everything started to change. He grew cold towards me. He never wanted to speak with me, eat with me, lie with me, or even make eye contact with me. My heart started to break and I started to regret everything that I had chosen for myself with him. One night I heard a noise in one of the bedrooms. I went to go see what it was, and it was him. He pinned me down in the darkness. Even against my screams he just laughed and then I felt it. He killed me with one slit to the throat."

My voice was shaking. I didn't even dare to make eye contact with Tate. "The thing is though, it wasn't just him. I could feel other people in the room. Or not people I guess, but ghosts, dark forces, whatever you want to classify it as. So for a long time I told myself that he didn't mean to do it. It wasn't him, he wasn't thinking straight. You know, the ghosts were just possessing him, he didn't mean it. I haven't seen him since that night. I'll never forget his face and how sinister it read. His smile. He _smiled_ when he killed me."

I stopped speaking after that, I couldn't continue on. Tate tightened his grip on my body and pulled me closer to him.

"I will _never_ hurt you like that, Ellie. I need you to know that."

I sat up in the tub and stared at him, nodding, "I know."


	14. In the Morning

"C'mon," I laughed, pulling Tate along with me out the front door, "its Halloween!"

Halloween was the one day a year that we ghosts get to be free outside of the house. The one day every year that we got to experience what was going on in the real world. I told Tate it was up to him where we went this year, since it was his first Halloween as a ghost and I could tell the restrictions of the property were starting to eat away at him.

We took Constance's car and he started driving me to an unknown destination. It was 12:03 am, the very start of the day. None of the ghosts I had ever known in the house wasted a minute on the property on this day. Why would you when you're stuck in it all other days in the year? The ghosts usually went somewhere special to them, or at least I would think. I know that Moira always visits her mother.

"Where are you taking me?" I questioned.

He shook his head, "You'll see."

We drove extremely fast, but there were hardly any people on the road tonight, so we didn't cause much mayhem. To feel the wind blow through my hair again and watch everything pass by me in a blur, it was hard to believe that I was sincerely dead and had been for almost twenty years. I felt alive here and now with Tate. Sometimes I liked to believe that he and I went to school together and we had met in class or something cliché like that. It was nice to think like that sometimes.

We pulled into a large parking lot and I instantly heard the crash of waves. I jumped out of the car and I ran onto the cold sand. It was dark, but I could barely make out the silhouette of the ocean. I heard Tate close the car door and make his way over to me, lacing his fingers with mine.

I took in the entire atmosphere and exhaled deeply.

"I've never been to the beach before, you know." I said quietly.

"Yeah, Moira mentioned it, when I asked her where I should take you. I needed it to be special, since this is our first official date and all." He smiled and then asked, "How have you never been to the beach before? Like honestly that's hard to believe."

He set up a bonfire and we sat there alone on the beach, cuddled in a blanket. I laughed and shrugged, "I don't know, I mean there aren't really beaches in Colorado… and when I died I had only been living in the house for a couple of months. The beach wasn't really my top priority when I was alive. It was more like, work; keep the house, things like that I guess."

He nodded, "It's weird. I can't picture you alive, if that's rude or something. I just can't see you out in the real world at school or anything like that."

"I've been locked up in that house for so long, I almost forgot about the real world. I can't really imagine myself at college. Well, with the life that I had chosen I don't think college was even an option. I feel like everything was meant to be, like I was supposed to die, because I wouldn't have really made it in the long run out there."

"Same here," he breathed.

With that I didn't respond; I only stared out at the vast expansion of ocean. It seemed limitless. Thinking about all of the places that were just across it, and how I'd never get to go or even imagine what they would be like. Places like Europe, somewhere I had only dreamed about going one day. Now all that I had to comfort those lost dreams were photographs in books.

"Do you ever regret your death?" I asked as I was nuzzled into his body. We had sat silent for so long, I needed something to break the silence.

"It's not like I had control over it, you know? The S.W.A.T. team just kind of pulled it on me in a moment. I think about it a lot; about the pain. I think about the bullets just ripping through my chest and how I realized that I was going to die, but then I think of you, and I'm not so sad."

I looked up at him and smiled. I sighed and looked out to the ocean again. I stood up and stripped down to my underwear. Without looking back at Tate I screamed at the top of my lungs and ran forward to the ocean.

It hit me hard, but it felt amazing. All these years I had been missing this. It was cold at first, but I didn't mind it. I thought it felt absolutely beautiful. Suddenly I felt his arms snake around my waist and haul my feet out of the water, spinning me around. I both screamed and laughed at the same time. When he had finished whipping me around he completely let me go and fall into the waves. The water just seemed like it was one with me. It touched and explored my face, although it stung my eyes, it didn't really bother me. It swirled through my hair and I almost didn't want to break to the surface.

When I came up, Tate was grinning victoriously. I jumped on him, trying to push him under as well, but I was smaller and much weaker than him, so it didn't do much.

As I tried to fight him into the water, he started kissing my lips. I was not going to back down against this. I knew this was his way of trying to win. I fought back the urge to kiss him back.

I knew I was losing this battle when he took hold of my body and started walking out of the ocean, still attacking my lips with his.

Sloppily we landed on the blanket. He was crouched over me, kissing around my face and down my neck, virtually anywhere other than my lips. I could feel the cold ocean water dripping off of his body onto mine, chilling me, but at the same time we lay beside the burning fire. My skin felt like it too was aflame. It was an odd mixture of the two elements.

I couldn't take anymore of the teasing. Luckily he leaned forward, grabbing my hips and bringing me up to straddle his lap. I let out a breath. Our noses brushed each other slightly and our lips were centimeters apart.

"Are you sure?" He said softly. I almost didn't hear him, it was so quiet.

I nodded, thinking about Hunter. He was the last person I should be thinking of in this moment I was having with Tate, but I couldn't help it. With Tate I felt safe and protected. All we had in this world was each other. I knew without him I would crumble and I knew that he would too. I wanted to share this moment with him.

My hands found their way into his mess of wet and knotty hair. I pulled his face to mine, kissing him harder than I had ever kissed anyone. He kissed me back with equal force, swiftly pressing his tongue through a slight gap in-between my lips. His hands quickly moved from my waist to the clasp of my bra. I smirked against him as he fiddled with it, unable to get it free.

I pulled away from his lips, still smirking.

"Shut up," He mumbled, whipping me around. He quickly unhooked it and it fell off of my body. I threw it off in the sand somewhere. I was going to turn back around to face Tate, but he started planting soft and gentle kisses down my spine. He gently found the small of my back, tracing and then leaving soft kisses along my spine. His touches sent electricity through my body, every smooth kiss, every stroke, and every time his flesh made contact with mine it left me begging for more.

He pulled me close to him, so there was no space in-between our bodies. Tate's hands then found their way onto my breasts, slowly massaging them and playing with my nipples. I arched my neck back in pleasure, leaving it to curve onto his shoulder. My eyes were shut, only focusing on the bliss.

Feeding off of my pleasure, Tate took it to the next level. I felt a hand slip into my underwear while the other still meddled with my chest.

"You're so wet," he whispered into my ear, starting to play with me. This caught me off guard and I tried to hold back a whimper. I could almost feel the victorious smile on Tate's face unfold. He moved faster and harder. I could feel it approaching. Everything around me started to melt away. I think he knew too, because he moved even quicker than before, which made me cry out in pleasure.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. My body felt like fire in an explosion. I gripped his legs beside me for support. I let out a long, high pitched moan that seemed to thoroughly enjoy Tate.

"Fuck," I breathed. He kept going just as hard to see how long I could take it. I didn't last too long before the overwhelming amount of it all became too much. I pulled his hand out of my thoroughly soaked panties and I moved away from him to catch my breath.

"Oh no, you can't escape me that quickly," He said, obviously greedy for more. He pinned me down so I was laying down on the blanket now. He grinded his hips against mine, feeling him through his boxers. I bit my bottom lip.

For a moment he stopped and stared into my eyes. This was it, I could tell. His deep brown eyes glimmered in the fire light. A smile peeked through his lips as he leaned down to my face and kissed my lips softly. He then moved to my chin, neck, and slithered down and planted small kisses down between my breasts and down my stomach. When he reached the edge of my underwear he stopped and looked up into my eyes. I nodded.

He slowly slid them off, building the anticipation heavily. He then stripped off his boxers. He did it slowly and he let out a shaky breath as he did so; knowing that he was probably just as nervous as I was left me somewhat comforted. Even though I had seen him naked before, this time it was different. Everything in this moment changed for both of us. He slid back up my body and then I felt him. I whimpered as I felt the slightest bit of pain as he entered me. I didn't honestly prepare myself for how big he was.

He moved in a rhythm, very slow at first. Our bodies rocked together as one. I arched my hips up so he hit me just in the right spot. He started to move faster and faster and I gripped his back for support. He brought his lips down to mine and kissed me messily. I feel another orgasm coming and I moaned against his lips. It came quickly and I broke away from Tate's mouth. I couldn't help but scream it was so overpowering. My back arched and Tate started sucking at my neck, still going faster than ever.

"Fuck, Tate," I cursed out. I wasn't one to swear often, but no other words quite fit the situation as well.

He started moving faster and faster inside me. Everything felt like a giant rush. I could tell he was holding in an orgasm. Right as I thought that, he let it go. He let out a shaky moan and pressed up against me, going deep. His muscles flexed and then relaxed in an instant. He collapsed next to me, thoroughly exhausted.

I pulled him to me, regardless of how sweaty and tired we both were, I needed him in my arms. All we did was breath in those silent moments. I closed my eyes and I heard everything; he crashing of the waves, the wind, all of it. I placed a single hand on his chest, just to lay it there. I felt the rise and fall of his chest like a rhythm.

"Aw look at that," A voice laughed. I turned my head to see Maria and my mood was instantly changed, "First time on the beach, Ellie? How cliché romance novel of you."

I wanted to go up to her and rip out her lungs. She was definitely not going to ruin this day for me. Tate comforted me by rubbing my back softly. I let out a deep breath.

"What do you want, Maria?" I almost hissed, although I tried to control my anger.

"I was just lonely, that's all," She said innocently.

"Why don't you just leave? Can't you see we're kind of pre-occupied?" Tate said through his teeth, obviously as infuriated by me, although he wasn't afraid to show it.

Maria shot him a deadly smile and tilted her head, letting her long brown hair fall to the side. "Fine, but Tate, first you have to tell me- was Ellie here as good as me?"

I opened my mouth to speak, to get her to just leave, not fully hearing what she said; but then it hit me.

_Was Ellie here as good as me?_

My heart stopped, or maybe it would have if it still was beating in my chest. This was obviously just some sick joke for her. I mean, Tate wouldn't have sex with Maria, right? He knew how much I hated her, plus, he and I loved each other. No, this wasn't happening. This was just a lie.

I tried to form words, a sentence, anything, but nothing audible escaped from my lips. If this was just a lie, I don't know why I wanted to throw up and heave out all of my insides.

"What," I breathed, after a long and very sharp silence. Tate didn't speak; I couldn't even look him in the eyes. I didn't want to know the truth.

Maria smiled like a child on Christmas morning; she was utterly pleased with herself. "He didn't tell you? I figured he wouldn't. You're little boyfriend here and I had a real good time when you were away on your little trip, El; when Moira banished you. We had a real good time fucking on your bed."

"She's lying, Ellie. I swear," He pleaded, grabbing my arm for support and I stood up from the blanket, almost frozen in shock from what I had been hearing. I was numb, but I managed to rush to grab my shirt and pants so Maria didn't have the satisfaction burning holes in my skin with her judging glare of my imperfect body.

Tate slipped on his boxers and stood up as well, moving towards me. I pushed him away and I looked between his stare and Maria's.

"Tell me the truth," I said, looking straight into his brown eyes. My stomach was in knots.

"I didn't. I swear, Ellie. I would never do that. Why would I do that?" he said while shaking his head. I could hear the tears in his throat as he spoke.

I looked at Maria, who shrugged. "I may hate you, Greene, but I don't make my way on lies. This is the real deal; it's all about who you're going to believe."

I didn't know how to handle this. I didn't want to believe what she was saying, but for some reason I did. For some reason I knew that she wasn't lying. My heart felt like it had just been ripped out of my chest. I felt utterly disgusting. Tate had had sex with Maria, and he just had sex with me also. I felt cheated. I turned and I started to walk away, running a hand through my hair and biting down on my knuckles to hold back the tears that were forming in my eyes. I couldn't deal with this. I had to think.

I felt him grab my arms and whip me around to face him. I tried to battle him off; I tried slapping him and punching his bare chest, but he grabbed my hands tightly and spoke. "Please, Ellie I'm asking you to believe me. I would never in my life cheat on you or even think about having sex with another girl, please. I love you."

His words stung. "This isn't your life, Tate. You're _dead;_ like me, like Maria, like all of us. You're different now, clearly. And I can't trust you after this." I said, not looking directly at him, but to the ocean. I couldn't face his stare.

"So that's it? You hear one rumor-that isn't even true- and you're going to just leave me? I did this for you. I did this so we could be together. You're all that I have." he cried.

"I DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS," I screamed, pushing him away. "I didn't ask for you to die, Tate. I told you upfront, thousands of times that I wanted you to be alive and to live a long and happy life. You _promised_ me you would do that for me. Do you know what else you promised?" I breathed.

He didn't respond. Tears were streaming down his face and he was choking on his words. Before he could even think to respond, I did.

"You promised me you would never hurt me," I said, tears starting to fall down my face.

"Ellie, you can't do this. Please, I'm begging you. Do you remember that moment we just shared together? That was real. Our love is real."

"You think I forgot about what just happened?" I forced a laugh, tears streaming down my face. "It makes me feel sick to my stomach. What I just let you do to me, now that I know that you probably did the same thing to Maria, maybe even farther than what we did. I don't know what is real anymore, Tate. How do I know you actually love me? How do I know that this isn't all just a game?"

"Don't talk like that, now you're just being ridiculous." He shook his head. "You _know_ I love you. I'm in love with you Ellie. I would never hurt you like this, please. Don't believe her lies. I can't be without you. Without you this would all be worthless. I can't survive without you."

I hesitated before responding."Maybe you should have thought of that before you had sex with her."

With that, I didn't wait for a response. I turned on my heels and I started running fast and far away. I didn't turn back to see if Tate was coming after me, but after I had ran a few blocks and noticed no one behind me, I started walking again. I wiped the tears from my eyes and tried to steady my breathing. I started wheezing and hyperventilating. I sat down next to a tree and wrapped my hands around my legs to keep them from shaking.

"Hey, are you ok?" a young voice asked.

I looked up to see a young brunette boy around the age of 14 standing a fair distance away from me.

I chuckled, "Not really. Why are you out here on such a late night, kid?"

"I'm not a kid. I'm 14, I'll have you know. And I was on my way to walking to my friends house… it's Halloween; even though it's just the morning of." He explained, but paused and asked, "Why are you crying?"

He moved down next to me, searching my eyes for an explanation. To him I only looked like a 17 year old girl. He had some guts coming up to talk to me. If I were in his shoes at this late at night I would have booked it down the street.

"My boyfriend cheated on me." I said.

"Did he have sex with another girl? Isn't that what the older kids do?" he asked.

I nodded, "Yeah, he had sex with another girl. And I found out right after having sex with him."

"That's rough. Boys are stupid."

"They're not all bad, you're pretty nice."

"Thanks. What's your name?"

I paused before answering, I figured why not, since I'm never going to see him again. "Ellie, what's your name?"

"Chad," he stood up from where he was sitting next to me. "I should go, it was nice meeting you though, and maybe I'll see you around again sometime. You can tell me all about what happens with your boyfriend."

"Maybe," I whispered as he turned and started walking down the street.

I started focusing on Tate again, now that Chad had started walking away.

"Hey, Ellie," he said, turning back to me.

"Yeah," I asked.

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

I paused before I continued to nod.

He nodded back in response, "Me too."

* * *

**A/N: I think it's safe to say that by this point the story is half over, maybe more. I'm still not sure how I want to exactly end this. And the sex wasn't supposed to be extremely dirty, ect. if that wasn't already known or obvious. Ellie, to me, isn't the dirty/sexy girl type. Ps- I changed the rating to M now. If anyone noticed/cared haha.**

**Before I keep rambling on, thank you to all that have favorited/reviewed/followed this fic so far. It really means a lot to me that you all enjoy it.**


	15. As I Remembered

**AN: I'm so sorry it's been so long.. I forgot about this story and wasn't really motivated to write it, but I think I'm back! Also sorry this isn't a dreadfully great chapter or anything, I just wanted to post so you guys know I'm not dead!**

It had been weeks since Halloween. I spent most of my time in the crawlspace under the house, the only place where Tate's screams were out of earshot. He screamed for me back; that it wasn't true and how he wanted to explain, that he loved me and couldn't be without me. I couldn't stand the sight of him after he had mutilated himself for my attention.

He cut his wrists, hanged himself; he even slit his own throat in attempts for me to show myself.

I didn't; I couldn't.

He hurt me and he deserved to suffer.

It was 2008 when another couple finally moved into the house. I suspected the real estate agency thought it was long enough for everyone to have forgotten about Tate's incident. It was a gay couple. I spent most of my time watching them. They fought a lot, and had a lot of hate sex, which was extremely entertaining to watch.

The blonde, Patrick, was a cheater. When he wasn't at the house he was out a bars or clubs fucking whoever caught his eye. I almost felt bad for Chad when I watched him sit alone in the house watching television and doing some sort of seasonal craft out of a Martha Stewart catalogue.

I appeared to him one night, out of being lonely and I wasn't that scared of him.

He jumped when I suddenly was in the chair opposite him in the study. He looked me over, about to say something, but he paused and stared at me for a long while.

I raised my eyebrows at him.

"You're Ellie," He said, still staring at me.

Now it was my turned to be awestruck, how did he know me?

"What," I breathed, "How do you know me?"

"Halloween, 1994, your boyfriend cheated on you, remember?"

I winced at the memory. These days I just tried to repress it. I never saw Tate anymore. He gave up trying to win me back years ago, obviously finding himself unsuccessful. I never saw Maria anymore, either. Maybe they were off in another part of the house endlessly having sex.

"You were the boy, in the street," I nodded.

"You haven't aged."

"I haven't aged since 1970 when I was murdered in this house."

"I've heard the ghost stories, but I never believed in them; I guess until now."

His eyes roamed all over my body, not in a sexual way of course, but he eyed me in a way that I was just so fascinating and that I was on display in a zoo; like I was a freak.

"If you were smart you'd move out before the same thing happens to you." I shot at him.

"The economy is in the shitter. I don't really have a choice about moving out. All of our money is tied here."

I pursed my lips, "You're going die in here."

"I can protect myself." He reassured.

"I thought that too. This house manipulates the people you love, it even manipulates yourself. You won't see it coming. Nobody ever does."

I spent the rest of the evening talking to Chad and telling him all about Tate. He continued to tell me all about Patrick as well. I trusted him. He was like an old friend to me, even though the only time we had ever talked besides now was eighteen years ago, more or less.

"So, how is Tate, have you even seen him since that night?"

"After a while, a long while of hearing him scream out for me and cry and mutilate himself for my attention, I couldn't take it anymore and I hid down in the cellar. I would sit in the darkness and cry and comfort myself with songs from my childhood. It was quite depressing and by the time I thought it was okay to come out, he was gone. He hasn't shown himself around the house in years. It's like he's disappeared. Some days I even forget that he's here, waiting."

"Waiting for you?"

"Maybe," I sighed.

"Do you ever think that you were just waiting for a reason to cut him off? You punished him so quickly and so cruelly I can't help but wonder why it was so necessary. If you loved him as much as you say you did, why did you act so suddenly?" He pondered.

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words formed.

"Did you ever actually find out if it was completely true also? Did he really sleep with the nurse?"

"I'll never be sure; I just trusted my gut, because he wouldn't tell the truth if his life depended on it. He would say anything that I would want to hear, you know? And Maria, I don't even know where to begin with her. She likes to make my life miserable, but she's never used lies to do that."

He nodded, but I could tell he found trouble in responding.

I stood up and smiled, "I should go. Patrick is going to be home soon."

He nodded again, and I excused myself from the room. I thought about becoming unknown again, but for some reason I decided against it. I let out a shaky breath and started heaving myself up the staircase. I was sick to my stomach thinking about Tate, and the things that Chad had said to me. I desperately wanted to talk to Maria, but I hadn't seen her in years and I didn't know how to get her attention without attracting his as well.

I passed by Tate's bedroom, hearing a quiet conversation, "Do you think she's passed on?"  
"No, she's still here. I can still feel her."

"Weird."

"She's lonely and she misses you."

"Bullshit, if she missed me she would show herself."

"She's stronger than that, Tate."

It took me a minute to recognize Maria's voice. She still sounded young and crisp, as did Tate.

It took everything to not break into the room and see his face again. I was so curious, even though I knew it would be exactly as I remembered.


	16. A New Perspective

Tate

I bit at my overgrown and long dirty nails while watching the morning news. It wasn't anything worthwhile, but I figured I didn't have much else to do around here, so I watched. It was mostly basic things like the weather and traffic reports. There were previews on TV during commercials for films coming into theaters that I would never get to see, and commercials for vacation getaways that I'll never be able to get away to. Thinking about these things left me numb, so I tried not to let my mind wander off in that direction as much as possible.

I thought about her most of the time to replace the bad thoughts; her face, her smile, her laugh, her body. I couldn't forget it. It's been almost twenty years and I could remember her perfectly. After that night I haven't seen her once, almost like she didn't come back that Halloween. Which I knew wasn't true, but I think I like to tell myself that to ease the pain of knowing she's still here, watching and lingering. I remember when it first happened, I knew she was here. I screamed out her name, I tried t talk to her to get her to know the truth, but she didn't want to hear it.

And the most heartbreaking of it all was that I never even cheated in the first place. She refused to believe me, she wanted a reason to run away and be alone again. It made me so angry. She won't even stand and listen to me.

Maria walked into the living room and sat next to me. She leaned over and rested her head on my lap, which made me uncomfortable thinking that Ellie could be watching at any moment.

"What are you doing," I breathed.

"Calm down, Tater tot, I'm just using you as a pillow, alright?" She rolled her eyes at my tone, and she readjusted herself on my lap and made it all the more awkward and uncomfortable.

I winced when she called me Tater tot. I didn't even enjoy Maria's company at all, ever. It just made everything that she said to Ellie at the beach like it was true. That we did actually have sex and that it seemed like it was just a plot to get us together or something. Every time I found myself alone, Maria would always pop up and I never wanted to tell her to go away, because she was my only company.

Most of the time, I pictured Maria as Ellie, and just pretended that she was her. That took away some of the pain sometimes, but it was never fully put to ease.

And then I felt her hand come up to my face and she sat upright and brought my face to hers. I didn't fight back, I didn't pull away. I kissed her lips and it was much less amazing than I ever expected it to be. I mean, she was a hot and sexy dead nurse, for some reason I expected her to be at least somewhat of a good kisser. We kissed for a while, and our positions ended up shifting to me being on top of her on the couch. I wanted to just pretend that I was kissing Ellie, because my eyes were closed and my mind was put away for a bit, but I knew how Ellie tasted, and I remembered how she felt against me, and this wasn't it.

I broke apart from her and I sat back down on the couch like normal. She changed to a seated position also with a beaming smile on her face. "God, you don't know how long I've wanted to do that."

I ignored her comment and I continued to watch television. I could almost feel her roll her eyes right next to me. She pecked my lips one more time before disappearing. I didn't kiss her back that time. I sighed and turned off the TV once she was gone. I ran my fingers through the knots in my long hair and I felt a hot surge of tears coming on as I started to crave Ellie. I quietly let out a few sobs before getting up from the couch and making my way to the kitchen. I made myself unknown, just in case Maria was to spot me again. My heart almost stopped as I entered the kitchen and I saw the ratty nest of long brown hair sitting at the kitchen counter. This had to be a dream. She was just sitting there out in the open drinking a cup of coffee casually. I wiped away the tears on my face and I studied her. Around her eyes were dark and sunken, she looked tired and weak and emaciated. She wore an old ratty t-shirt of hers that I remembered dearly. She wasn't wearing makeup, but she still looked as gorgeous from twenty years ago.

I was going to make myself known. I contemplated it for a minute, and just as I was about to, the gays walked in the door. The blond one kept walking through the kitchen as though he didn't see her, but the other stopped and smiled at her, placing his bags of groceries on the island.

"I thought you didn't like to show yourself?" He asked.

She shrugged, "I'm living today wild, I suppose." She laughed. God, I missed her laugh and the crispness of her voice. The way her lips moved as she talked and when the ends curved upright as she laughed, I just wanted to kiss her and pull her tightly into my arms.

My hands clenched and I vibrated with jealousy because he was free to talk to her. Even though he had no romantic feelings for her, I felt threatened by him.

"What about that crazy ex boyfriend of yours?"

When he indirectly mentioned me, I knew that they had discussed me. And I felt sick to my stomach to know that she trusted him enough to talk about me and what we had been through, and he called me crazy. I hated that. I'm not crazy.

She shook her head, "I don't really care anymore. I've moved on."

"Well what are you going to do when you have to face him one day?"

She thought over her answer for a long while, "I don't think that will happen."

"C'mon, you don't think that you're ever going to see or talk to him again?" he forced a laugh.

"I mean… after what he did I don't want to talk or see him. But I'm not going to hide away like a little child anymore. And maybe one day I'll finally be able to forgive him… Plus, who knows if he still even cares about me, for all I know he could be fucking Maria this instant. It's been twenty years; I think we've both moved on."

"I wish I had eternity to figure out and work out a relationship. But alas, my days are numbered. And I don't think Patrick and I are going to last that much longer." He sighed.

"You really don't want to have an eternity of a lifetime; watching everyone die around you. And it's not even a lifetime... it's an afterlife, I suppose. Being trapped here isn't a joy. Maybe if I wasn't locked down to one location forever like a prison it could be more enjoyable. I could travel and be free and roam and do whatever I wanted, but I don't think the human world is a good place for ghosts. That's why our worlds our separate and we are only allowed out on Halloween."

"Do you think all ghosts are tied down to somewhere… like here? The ghosts that are caught in the in-between, do you think they're trapped?" he pondered aloud.

"Maybe, I've never met any other ghosts outside of the murder house, so I wouldn't know. And I don't think I would want to."

"Why not?"

"Well, what if I met a really nice ghost and we became friends only to find out that I could only see them on Halloween?"

"Are you talking about a future relationship?" He said daringly.

She laughed, "No I'm just saying. I'm not out to make friends outside of this house. It only leads to pain."

"You know what you should do? Since Halloween is right around the corner, you should go out all dressed up nice and sexy and just go wild and get Tate out of your mind, just for a bit of fun."

She smiled and blushed, "That would be great if I didn't look like a dead person."

I frowned, she didn't look like a dead person, and she looked beautiful all of the time. She was always too modest about her appearance.

"Well I love makeovers. I can give you a haircut, get you some nice clothes, the whole nine yards," He beamed.

She laughed again, "Why do you want to do this for me?"

He shrugged, "Because you're my friend and whether you like it or not I want to help you. I know what it feels like to feel trapped by a shitty relationship."

I couldn't stand here and let them talk about all of this; talk about me like I didn't matter to her anymore. I didn't want to let myself believe that she didn't care about me anymore. She was actually going to go through with going out on Halloween dressed slutty and have sex with some random guy that she didn't even love. That didn't sound like Ellie; my Ellie. Maybe I could talk to her; maybe I could win her back before she did that. I wouldn't be able to live knowing that she had sex with some random ass living boy; someone that wasn't me. I guess this was how she felt about me, but she didn't even know that I didn't actually have sex with Maria. I would never want Maria like I want Ellie. I got so frustrated thinking about it all, I grabbed the glass of water on the counter next to me and I threw it at the wall.

Ellie screamed and looked around wide eyed while Chad only shuttered and cursed.

Ellie sat up from her seat at the table, still wide eyed and she moved toward where I was standing. Her lips were parted and she waved an arm through me. I felt nauseous as she did it and she obviously knew that I was there, and that it was me because she quickly disappeared. It was the first interaction I had with her in twenty years. Her hand went right through me, and I quickly made my way back upstairs to the bathroom.

All of the bad thoughts started to consume me. I locked the door and my hands started to shake. My head was racing and I looked at myself in the mirror and fumbled around with the cabinet door, pulling out my razor blades. I sat in the bathtub and I thought about that night we had together. I took the blade to my wrist and I cut deep. I didn't care. Why should I care? I was already dead. They shot me in the room down the hall. I started to carve letters into my arm. The tears blurred my vision, but I refused to wipe them away.

The blood was all over me and the tub. I looked at the word that was scrawled across my skin; her name, just her name. I tilted my head back and let it all fade out. This was probably the twentieth time I've killed myself. Every time I hope I'm taken away from this place. I'm too tired of waiting and the pain and seeing her. For right now though, I focused on her eyes. I focused on the good times and how she tasted and the sound of her laugh and the way she felt that night on the beach, and how much she loved me and how much I still love her.

It took a week for me to come back to the murder house and to wake up. I found myself in the basement with Maria standing over me. She rolled her eyes, "Happy Halloween, loser."

"It's Halloween?" I asked. Fuck, which means Ellie was gone.

"No, we still have a couple of days."

I nodded and she walked up the stairs, as I heard someone crying from the other room. I went to explore the source and I found Nora.

"Are you okay?"  
She shook her head, "No, no. Wh-Where's my baby? You promised me a baby."

"I don't think the new couple is having a baby anymore. They fight too much; I think they're splitting up." I explained.

She moved to me and was inches away from my face. It made me uncomfortable, especially when she brought her hand up to my face and cupped my cheek. She spoke in a whisper that only we could hear. Her breath smelled like stale candies and tea, "You know what to do, then."

He had bought the suit before I had been absent for those two weeks. It sat in the closet mockingly. I breathed through my teeth, contemplating putting the thing on, but I lost the battle with myself and I did. It was disgusting. It felt like a second skin and I felt completely naked. I looked at myself in the mirror. Slimming.

I made my way downstairs. He was sitting at the table cutting out paper patterns when he looked up and saw me. He laughed, "Very… scary sexy. I like it. Come help me with these bats."

I moved towards him. I was almost shaking; although, I didn't hesitate when I grabbed his figure that was much bigger than mine and threw him across the dining room. He tried to fight back, but he didn't seem like the type that was much into sports and getting in shape. I threw him around a bit more and I noticed the 'bobbing station' he liked to call it. Gay name. I dunked him into the cold water, he thrashed around until I pressed down harder and I heard his neck crack and break. He was gone. I threw his body onto the floor, and as I stood up straight I noticed the blond in the doorway.

He looked at Chad and then at me, his eyes wide, but he moved for me. I grabbed his head and I hurled him into the dining room table. He screamed and he tried to fight back, but I was stronger and I could feel his warm blood flowing from his face making my grasp on him slippery.

He lost consciousness and I dragged his body down to the basement. I pulled down his trousers with the fire poker from the living room in my hand. Without another thought I thrust it into his ass. I could hear the flesh ripping and it went deeper and deeper inside of him. It quickly bled out and I eventually stopped after a couple minutes, because I had finished what I had set out to do, and now I was just having fun with it. I dropped the fire poker on the ground and I went upstairs to get the other one. I let his body lifelessly fall down the basement staircase and onto the floor next to Patrick.

"These boys had friends, family. They will be missed and people will come looking for them." I turned and saw Moira standing on the stairs.

"Use this, it belonged to them." She sighed, and handed me the gun.

I shot two bullets into the chest of Patrick, and placed the gun in Chad's hand, and pulled the trigger at his chest, making it look like a murder suicide. I looked at their bodies with each of their arms stretched out like they were reaching for one another. I huffed and kicked their arms to the sides before returning upstairs.

I was sitting in the attic hours later when I heard her scream. I was playing with Beau and I sat up straight, listening to her run around the house.

"Chad?! Chad, please, where are you?" She screamed.

I knew they had grown close. I stepped downstairs from the attic, unknown, and instead of her scraggly and messy brown hair, it was shiny, straight, and pulled back in a headband. Her face was replenished and she had the slightest hint of makeup on. She wore a very nicely complementing floral dress that fell just above the knee.

Moira appeared in front of her and she grabbed at her shoulders to restrain her, "They're both gone."

"Why? Why? Was it Tate? Who killed them, Moira?" She asked, over and over again. my body tensed as I waited for her answer.

"I just found the bodies. I cleaned the mess. I don't know who did it." She said. If I hadn't known she was lying, I wouldn't have suspected anything from her tone.

"They'll be around later, I promise. They always turn up." She comforted, "C'mon, I'll make some tea."


End file.
